Redemption
by Gambit01V2
Summary: Is redemption truly beyond some people? Perhaps the answer is found here, as the Shitennou have been resurrected just in time to aid the Senshi in the this newest threat, where demons from their past come to haunt their present, and take away their future
1. Prologue

Reborn….

It was strange; many look at the opportunity of another chance as a way of living out one's life the same exact way, with the exception of rectifying one or two of their more prevailing mistakes.

However, this did nothing to please or placate any of them; rather, it unnerved each to his very core-how could they possibly rectify their prevailing mistakes? They looked out the window, the palace towering over anything else within the city. They gazed up into the clouds, searching for answers…..

Yet none were offered.

Only four thoughts went through their heads, consistently, without remorse.

_Guilt; I am guilty, there is no denial…so why?_

_Weak; I was too weak to do anything. Why am I so weak?_

_Who am I? What am I?_

_Traitor………_

* * *

Tokyo Tower.

It was a monument, a transcending tribute to the past. If the figure cared about such trivialities, he would have found the situation humorous; it was certainly, at least, ironic. One of the very proofs of Crystal Tokyo's existence would be the base of its doom. Perched on the very tip of the tower, safe from the view of almost all, he glanced at the palace in the distance. Cold, lifeless eyes observed the castle, and only one thought penetrated his mind.

Soon.

As the sun began to sink, his shadow began to stretch out; twisting, curving, searching, summoning.

_Where are they?_

The figure sighed; a useless, forced gesture, given his situation, and he knew it. However, he was going to have to give appearances, and it was better to get in the habit now then later.

Telepathically, he sent his response.

_Patience, master; they will be here. I have instructed them to come by…conventional means. They will require a great deal of energy to participate in the Barrier, so we can't risk wasting their reserves with teleportation._

Silence met his response, but he waited anyway. He knew from experience that the presence would not let him get the last word in any conversation unless it was humble.

Sure enough, the grating, twisted voice exploded in his mind again.

_Do not forget who you owe your very life too, Zetsubou. If not for me, you would be dead. And do not dare patronize me with words like 'patience' and 'understanding'. I have been waiting for over one hundred years for my vengeance, and I am too close now to fail due to your over-caution!_

Zetsubou, the name the entity gave him; the only name he knew. A stupid name, yet at the same time, fitting.

He sighed again; good, he was starting to pick up the habit. The more human he seemed the better he would throw off his opponents. Given the track record of all of their foes, he would need every advantage he could get.

Not even bothering with a reply, he looked over the city, where his shadow had come to envelop all but the palace. The corners of his mouth twitched into something that resembled a smile, a smile that never touched his red eyes.

_So it begins._

Zetsubou- despair.

**Well, let's try for round 2. Yes, this is the original Gambit01, for those of you who remember/care; my e-mail account got scratched from under me, and my profile was lost. Rather then try and get in touch with the Powers that Be to resurrect it, I just decided to up and create a new one; not like I had anything there anyway. So I'm sure you all know the old saying, "If at first you don't succeed, try try again.'**


	2. Chapter 1: First Impressions

Chapter 1: First Impressions

Rei was angry. No, angry wasn't the right word. Rei got angry when Minako butchered her latest euphemism or phrase. Rei got angry when Makoto burned their food while daydreaming about her latest crush. Rei got angry when Ami drowned herself in whatever scientific text she herself wrote, edited, and published, and every response was a disinterested grunt. Rei got angry when the Haruka and Michiru did their lone wolf routine. Rei got angry….well, you get the general idea.

Right now, Rei was furious. And she wasn't the only one.

"So, let me get this straight," Minako began, her sing-song, perky voice betrayed by her slightly shaking fist, held firmly at her side, "You waste the energy of both the Silver and Golden Crystals to resurrect four magically endowed _traitors_, without a word to anyone, namely me, who would have had a mandatory round the clock search on all of them to ensure that they wouldn't do anything suspicious, and expected us to be pleasantly surprised because of some orgy that the Inners had with them over a millennia ago?"

Usagi was frightened; Minako had completed an entire sentence without one misquote. It didn't help that Mamoru was sitting on his throne, a complacent, easy, and for intents and purposes, infuriating smile on his face.

"Why, yes Mina-chan. Your keen mind has once again been put the task and drawn all the correct conclusions."

Usagi scowled behind her hands; Neo-king or not, he was pushing his luck.

"Don't patronize me, you-Your Majesty," Minako amended quickly. "I say this out of concern for you and Usagi, and Chibiusa. How safe can you possibly be from them? They were corrupted by Beryl and Metallia."

"How safe can we be from _you_; you were corrupted by Galaxia and Chaos."

The series of sharp, intakes of breath was the only sound that now penetrated the heavy atmosphere. Everyone in the room glared at him, the look he received exactly the same; _you went too far._

Ami was the first to break the silence. Normally cool and controlled, even she was having trouble keeping a tight reign on her temper.

"My king….my king, with all due respect, those were completely different circumstances than the ones regarding the Shitennou; your analogy was hardly….fair."

"No it wasn't," Mamoru agreed, still pleasant. "In fact, I would say that it was borderline hypocritical, all things truly considered. I know that you didn't have any more choice in the matter than I did, _which is precisely my point_."

Now it was Makoto who ventured to speak. "Mamoru," she ignored the glares her fellow senshi gave her; they were alone, and he owed them after that cheap shot, damnit!

"Mamoru," she began again, her argument picking up in both speed and volume as she continued, "I don't think you understand what we are saying here; to put it bluntly, they are trash, Dark Kingdom trash at that. It was because of _them_ that the Silver Millennium was crushed; it was because of _them_ that we lost everything we had a right to in the past; It was because of _them_ that everything went….so…horribly….WRONG!" Screw priorities and appearances, who was Mamoru to put them through this?

"And now you bring _them_ back, do you honestly expect us to deal with _them_, work with _them_, live with _them_, LOOK at _them_, without completely, absolutely, loosing it?"

Rei smiled; Makoto had said everything that was burning in her own mind and from Mamoru's posture in his throne, it seemed that finally got through to the lovable yet thick-headed idiot.

Then Mamoru looked up and Rei visibly gulped at the expression on his face; she wasn't the only senshi.

"Finished?" Mamoru asked icily. Everything about his body language screamed that it would be a very bad idea to _verbally_ answer that question, just as it screamed that it would be a very bad idea to _not_ answer it, leaving Makoto completely at a loss. She merely nodded her head slowly, respectfully, and then hung it in shame.

"Good." Mamoru rose from his throne, and suddenly this was no longer Chiba Mamoru, friend, comrade-in-arms, husband and father; this was Neo-King Endymion, co-ruler of Crystal Tokyo, Slayer of Metallia, Master of the Golden Crystal, and Guardian of the Earth. And currently, RPO: Really Pissed Off.

"Then I am going to answer your question. All four of you WILL NOT act on your baser instincts, nor will you provoke them in any way unless given acceptable cause, and you all know the definition of that. I do not say that you have to make them feel welcome, or even interact friendly with them, regardless of your past relationships, but you will respect them and work with them. Have I made myself clear?"

Four heads nodded in internally defiant, yet externally meek submission. Rei, conscious that she was the only one of the four who had yet to speak, felt obligated to ask the unasked, unanswered, lingering question;

"Why? Why did you two do it?"

The figure slunk back into his chair, Mamoru once more. He sighed with exhaustion, and suddenly they remembered what Mamoru just accomplished; the resurrection of four, extremely powerful magical beings who had been dead for centuries. Even if he had some help from Usagi and the Silver Crystal, it was he who would have to do most of the work; his crystal and their souls being bound to the Earth ment that all Usagi could really do was increase the chances of it working. Mamoru was probably enduring this interview on sheer will alone. The Inner Senshi felt a sudden wave of guilt; their king should be in bed resting, not here subject to endless questions, justified as they were.

"No one knows what happened, or why they turned. Did they do so willingly? Or were they like so many of Beryl's victims; completely and utterly helpless against her and Metallia's wraith? As incorporeal beings inside their own spirit stones, they would not be forthcoming no matter how I alluded or probed. I…loved them. Gods of Light help me, I still do. They were…are my brothers."

When Mamoru looked up again, it wasn't a stern monarch, but a young man who had everything ripped from him, and the chance to get it back was tearing him up inside, leaving unshed tears in his eyes.

"I have to know the truth; I have to know, are they traitors? Did the four beings who were closer to me than all but one betray me? If so, then why? Maybe I'm being petty, hoping the shock of a new enviornment will force them to be both forth-coming and self-forgiving, but I have to know if redemption truly beyond someone."

Rei was speechless. The combination of royal rebuttal and choking emotion left her without anything to say; what could they say after that? Usagi, with a look that expressed both undying love and empathy, grasped Mamoru's hand before shooting a glare at her Inner Court, a hint of the Neo-Queen in her eyes. Rei wanted to speak, but her throat refused to work.

Once again, Minako responded for them. "My King…even if all you say is true, and I have no proof to doubt that it is, what if they aren't looking for redemption?"

Mamoru looked at her with a smile. "That is where we want you four to come in."

Rei gasped; that over-grown, pompous ass, he just told them they didn't have to-

Before she knew it she was on her knees with the rest of her friends, chanting in ritualistic tone;

"Our honor to serve and obey." Then they rose and left as one.

"That wasn't so bad," Usagi joked.

In spite of himself, Mamoru grinned. His humor lasted only a moment, though. "Four down, four to go." He steeled himself, but he didn't think he would be ready for what was to come.

And he doubted he ever would.

* * *

"Jadeite, if you don't stop pacing, I swear I'm going to stick those boots of yours right up your…" 

Kunzite sighed, not bothering to listen to the end of that sentence. Having lived with the same group of unchanging morons….err, comrades, you pick up on a few things about them; namely, their reactions to certain situations.

Example…

This is a highly stressful situation that they had no control over. He was in the corner, half in shadow, his cape hanging from his shoulders, giving him a menacing appearance that clearly said one thing, 'So not approach me.' Meanwhile, Jadeite-the ever plotting, ever manipulating-would be pacing simply because this was a situation that, again, they had no control over. It was in his nature to despise such situations; if he couldn't control it, manipulate it, twist it to his advantage in a grandiose and charismatic way, then he wanted nothing to do with it. It was, among other things, the attitude that prevented him from being a contender to Kunzite's role as the General-in-Chief, or even that of his second, Nephrite.

Nephrite, the ever dependable, ever loyal, ever emotional, would sit there and grow angrier and more frustrated by the minute, his friends' discomfort and Jadeite's pacing only succeeding in making him angrier. It was just a matter of time before Nephrite blew his top and lashed out at Jadeite, who would, in turn, respond with some snide comment, prompting a verbal sparring match between the two.

And then there was Zoisite.

Sweet, adorable, lovable Zoisite; he was the undisputed baby of the group. The three of them fussed over him almost as much as all four fussed over Endymion. A slight frown crossed his features at the sudden thought of his monarch….no, no; concentrate on what Zoisite will do in this situation.

That was easy enough. He would pull on his braid nervously, twiddle his thumbs, trying desperately to will away the unavoidable clash of his two elder 'brothers', and when it came, he would try to end it.

Nephrite, of course, would be the first to turn on Zoisite, angrily yelling at him (there was a time that arrogance and anger were the only two emotions that Kunzite thought Nephrite capable of feeling) and Jadeite would back him up with an ever cynical remark about Zoisite's effeminate appearance.

Kunzite, at this point in his musings, looked up to see events proceed according to his predictions. Now Jadeite and Nephrite would look at each other, shocked beyond belief that they had agreed on something, slow horror would dawn on their face, and they would then look at Zoisite, whose face easily revealed the pain those words caused him, as well as the failing effort to mask it. Nephrite would be the first to apologize…..now.

"Zoi, err, I didn't mean…what I mean to say is…Kunz, you want to help me out here?"

Nephrite turned a pleading look at his leader, who only snorted in response. Jadeite rolled his eyes and grasped Zoisite's arm, giving it a squeeze that spoke an apology no words ever could. Zoisite then placed a hand on Nephrite's chest and smile up at the taller soldier, causing the stocky shadow-mage to squirm endlessly.

"There is no need to apologize, old friend. This is a stressful time, for all of us."

Believing himself unnoticed in his observations, Kunzite was slightly shocked when Jadeite called him out.

"I thought it was my job to observe and manipulate the masses Kunzite, trying to oust me of a job?"

Kunzite tried to pretend that sarcasm behind that voice was just usual Jadeite cynicism; tried, and failed miserably. "Merely confirming a theory, Jadeite," he replied.

"Oh, and that would be?"

"I've known all three of you too damn long."

Nephrite and Zoisite suddenly exchanged looks. There were only two times Kunzite ever swore or joked; in the presence of (or thinking about) Endymion or…other people equally as dear. He never did either in any other situation, and never both at the same time. It meant something, and either doubted it was the proverbial sword about to be removed from his…

"Nervous?" Jadeite asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

The pitiful look of utter despair their pillar of strength shot at them was enough to shock the three junior generals down to their very core. Kunzite had always been the strong stone of support they could come to, the firm rock tower they could set their backs against; now they saw that the rock had been crushed to dust, and the dust scattered about by winds named Cruelty and Fate.

"Terrified," Kunzite replied. "Absolutely, utterly, terrified,"

At that moment, the door opened. A uniformed servant stood in the open portal, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Sirs, their Majesties will see you now."

Jadeite scoffed, and assumed a neutral expression betrayed only by blazing eyes.

Nephrite's anger was quickly glazed over by his almost ever-present arrogance.

Zoisite…well, remained Zoisite, except there was an aura of happiness about him, as false as the smile plastered on his face.

Seeing his brothers-in-arms place on their masks, Kunzite decided it was time to don his own. Closing his eyes and inhaling, he imagined the Sphere, an impregnable bubble in his mind. Silently, he willed the bubble to expand, pushing worry, fear, doubt, all his emotions away, leaving only the Self. Those emotions tried to bombard the Sphere, but rolled off it harmlessly, ensuring that the Self would remain untainted by emotion; only the rational, the logic dictated the mind now. In the age of the Golden Kingdom, most soldiers and warriors worth their salt knew of this trick, and it was appealing because it left one able to assess a situation without any emotions to lead necessary decisions astray, or feelings of pain and exhaustion to prevent the body from doing what needed to be done. It was rarely used, however, because in order to gain full effectiveness, one would have to maintain the Sphere almost constantly, as Kunzite often did. Only later did the user learn of the horrible price for doing so. There was one, terrible emotion that could be pushed aside, but not completely cast out of the Sphere.

Loneliness

The feeling of being utterly, completely alone had driven many fine warriors to suicide, and if not for his duty, his companions, and Endymion, Kunzite would have joined them long ago. Thus the reason for the Sphere's other two, well-earned names: The Mind Trap, and the Emptiness.

Kunzite exhaled. What had taken the inventors of the technique several minutes to accomplish, Kunzite achieved completion of the Sphere within a second with practiced ease. He had gathered the dust and reformed back into the strong rock. For now, that is; he could both feel and sense the fissures and cracks in this, 'rock.'

Turning to the servant, he made his most courtly bow.

"We are always at their majesties' service."


	3. Chapter Two: Dates With Destiny

Chapter 2: Dates With Destiny: At Last We Meet

**Crystal Palace**

**Like most dates with Destiny, it was a long journey; one that, given their own choice, they would never undertake.**

Zoisite felt more then a little uncomfortable, especially given that, like his counterparts, was dressed in his finest…..finest Dark Kingdom uniform, that is. Whether it was a sick, cruel joke, a symbol that not all was forgiven, that they didn't even remember their old Earth Kingdom uniforms-unlikely, given the many times they appeared before their lord over the years-or even if the uniforms were the only thing available, these were the clothes that were provided for upon their resurrection.

Their resurrection was actually a fascinating point of interest for Zoisite, and would serve to take his mind of this current conundrum. Apparently, the bio-engineers of the Royal Bureau for the Furthering of Scientific Study had genetically engineered four bodies based on their individual likeness, but kept at a completely dead yet preserved state; in other words, existing, but not alive. Obviously, this was done to avoid any ethical issues.

Afterwards, using his wife to supplement his already considerable power and a buffer so that awesome might wouldn't burn him out, King Endymion placed each of their stones on a corresponding body, and welded the soul-containing stone and fleshy bags together using his Golden Crystal. Apparently, the process took days, as they had been long dead, and technically, the bodies were only close genetic copies, not their real ones. Oh sure, _physically_ he felt the same, but he knew underneath that this body hadn't been broken in magically yet, and that no matter his experience and knowledge, Zoisite doubted that he could even match his Dark Kingdom self, let alone…..

There, see, he just defeated the purpose of thinking about something else. Zoisite sighed and pulled on his braid.

* * *

_Goddamn ass-holes putting me through this shit with freaky 'raising from the dead' stuff, it's like one of those movies Endy took us to see all those years ago._

As Nephrite walked on, he too, was uncomfortable in his current attire. So, being Nephrite, there was only one logical course of action.

Vent.

_This is his way of getting back at me because I cheated on that stupid Chinese checkers game Jadeite brought over when we were 12, I just know it. Geeze, you'd think that someone would get over something like that after…how many eons has it been?... And a reincarnation to boot…oh no, not reincarnations._

Like Zoisite and the rest of his companions, Nephrite had been told the details about his resurrection. In fact, Nephrite out-right demanded and almost threatened when he learned that the King was resting from his 'straining ordeal,' and he would not be satisfied until he learned that the king was in no danger save falling asleep on his feet, and he heard the entire process. Afterwards, he wished he would have been content with just the 'only in danger of falling asleep,' bit.

"Let me get this straight," he calmly stated, "You guys…_made_…these bodies…completely ignoring any potential complications or nefarious uses for this process, kept them-for all practical purposes- dead, until Endy pushed our souls into them, and then you force fed us until we were-and he was- healthy enough to take us out of our comas?"

"Crudely put, but correct in essentials," the accosted chamberlain disdainfully replied, too shocked at Nephrite's familiarity with the King to address it.

"Huh," Nephrite grunted nonchalantly, as if mulling over the weather.

For the next hour, he was behind a closed restroom door, and any who approached were immediately discouraged by the hurling sounds coming from within.

_Creepy, creepy, creepy; the whole thing is creepy no matter which way you look at it._

From now on, Nephrite would tell himself that Endy magically pulled bodies out of thin air, or better yet, they were formed from their stones. Yes, that worked awesome. It was better then…being in some other not-quite-a-guy's body, anyway. That whole concept was just wrong, and made him feel more then a little dirty.

* * *

As Jadeite walked shoulder to shoulder with his companions, he too was in deep thought over their attire. However, unlike Zoisite who tried to distract himself, or Nephrite who just ranted at any possible reason and then went off on an unrelated tangent, Jadeite methodically went over each and every possibility, and came to a logical conclusion.

_There's no way that this wasn't done on purpose; Endymion knows what our old attires looked like, and there are apparently newer palace uniforms, or even armor to choose from. Ergo, they deliberately chose these…abominations. They even got the damn coloring right._

_This has done nothing but make each and every one of us uncomfortable and off-balance. All four of us are in an agitated state, and prone to make slips that we otherwise wouldn't make._

_So, this was done on purpose, with the only result, and in fact probably the expected one, being that we are off-balance. Therefore, their Majesties can only want one thing;_

_Answers._

Jadeite smirked, both in self-congratulation and at Endymion's and Serenity's naïveté. Perhaps there was more to the equation, but with the variables given, this was the most likely result.

Very well, if they wanted answers, then he'll give them the answers. He certainly had enough strength to do that much….

* * *

Kunzite was always unique among his comrades.

Unique in hair coloring, unique in height, unique in the fact that he had a cape, unique that his uniform was regularly undone when off-duty; now was no exception.

He alone thought nothing of his current attire. Whether his uniform was Dark Kingdom or Earth Kingdom, or Crystal Tokyo, or even if he was stark naked, it didn't change who he was.

He was Kunzite, leader of the Shitennou, First General of the Mark, Captain of the King's Guard, Administrator of the Middle East, and member of the Royal Companions.

Oh, he couldn't deny that he suspected the insinuations behind it, anymore then he could deny that those insinuations hurt; he wasn't too crazy about the sordid details of their resurrection either.

But that was not his concern; after the actions he had done, whether willingly or not, he could stand to have his feelings abused. After all, that was what the Sphere was for, and these subtle insults-if indeed that was what they were-were the least he deserved.

Right now his main concern was to first, integrate himself into palace security, and then get back into fighting shape; this body, while athletically built, would barely be able to handle his regular swordsmanship, let alone any of his mystic talents. He saw the doors to the throne room up ahead, and took a deep breath.

_Here we go…_

* * *

**Tokyo Tower**

Outside the castle, on top of Tokyo Tower, Zetsubou stood at attention, his black trench coat fluttering in the wind. Pushing his sunglasses up his nose, he reached out with his mind, scanning the presence of each and every individual in the city; he carefully avoided the palace, and kept his 'feeling' at a bare minimum, a mere touch to confirm who it _wasn't_ rather then waste time with who it _was_. After all, there were three people living in the palace who were extremely sensitive to any magical activity relating to the mind, with a possible fourth now that the Resurrection had been completed.

At that thought, his eyes widened with the reflex response of suddenly finding something you were searching for half-hazardly while thinking of something else.

_Master_

**The only reason you should be bothering me, Zetsubou, is to either tell me that 'they' have finally arrived, or to start begging for your life because they are not coming.**

_Don't worry, my Master; we've known that they'd come for years. Besides, they're here right now._

**

* * *

**

**Church of Serenity**

**Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey; like any journey, as desirable as the destination was, much was gained along the way.**

"Soon we will stop by the Church of Serenity; contrary to popular belief, it is not a new cult surrounding the worship of the new monarchs, but a congregation of faiths, united in the belief that the Queen and King of the Crystal Kingdom are a Heavenly-and in some faiths, Divinely- inspired couple sent to bring us to a new period of enlightenment."

_You have no idea how true that is, _a lone figure half smirked in the shadows.

One look was all that was necessary to tell what faith this man represented, his Native-American features giving him away completely; he was vision-seeker for the Sioux tribe plains.

He was an elderly individual; strong, black hair had long since given in to iron grey. His face contained many wrinkles, half of which were due to knowledge attained rather then age. Clear, brown eyes seemed to catch everything as he glanced about, and he moved with a grace that betrayed the sinews of his arms. He was dressed in the ceremonial robes of his station, as were everyone else on this 'Great Pilgrimage of Faiths'. A dream-catcher was tied around his waist, and a wooden weave around his neck. He decided to neglect the head-dress, simply because it drew a few more stares then he was willing to endure.

"Yo, Ohanzee!!!"

The vision seeker gave an exacerbated smile; it was one of the few people he had been able to connect with on this 'Pilgrimage,' and a less likely combination you were never to come across, given the respective personalities. Ohanzee was obviously elderly, as well as somewhat quiet and reserved, whereas Father Michael…..

"We're finally here!! Weeks and weeks of going about the world in the single most roundabout way are over!! Finally we get to…arughfttt!!!"

….was an excitable klutz, possessing an energy that could only come from youth.

Sighing, Ohanzee bent over and pro-offered a hand. "Yes, Michael, we're finally here; now stop running around, or you'll trip over those ridiculous robes of yours."

"You're one to talk," laughed Michael, taking up the offered hand and allowing himself to be pulled up.

"So when we get off this crazy bus, how's about you and I hit some of the non-alcoholic bars and catch Italy beating the pants off of Spain?"

Ohanzee's eyes widened; it was all he could do not to laugh at his young friend's expense.

"You think Italy has a prayer? 'The triumph of hope over experience,' indeed."

"Oh ye of little faith," Michael quipped.

Ohanzee suddenly grew more serious, "Fun as that would be, Michael, I have an appointment to keep with an old acquaintance. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

Michael frowned, "'Old acquaintance?' I thought you said you didn't know anyone from Crystal Tokyo?"

_Crap; think fast Ohanzee._

"He isn't; he recently contacted me and told me he was moving to Crystal Tokyo. I was actually a little shocked; it had been over 100 years since I last saw him."

Not for the first time, Ohanzee was grateful that he accepted the gifts of the Silver and Golden Crystals; in exchange for a lower birth-rate, humans who accepted were granted greater health and longer lives. On a bus full of religious and spiritual leaders (all of whom had been trained to see through deceptions and falsehoods), it made lying about this particular subject a lot easier; after all, technically it was the truth.

"Ah. Well, don't let me get in the way of seeing your friend. But remember, loser buys winner breakfast tomorrow."

"In that case, you best check your wallet; I'd like eggs over-easy and fresh bacon please."

"Hardy-hardy-har-har."

Smiling, Ohanzee left his young friend and leapt out of the bus. Taking a moment to get his bearings, he walked with purpose towards Tokyo Tower.

* * *

**City Square**

**Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey; however, it wasn't exactly a boring one.**

"That's riggggggggghtttttttttttt, ladies and gentlemen!! The Three-Ring Circus will be in town for three months! That's right, miss, you heard me correctly; one month for every ring! You'll see wonders such as you've never seen before! The three-nosed elephant, the bearded lady, the clowns on parade, the chimera wolf-lions! And of course, our star attraction; that Man of Mystery, that Pioneer of Puppeteer-ing, that Illuminator of Illusions, the one, the only….**MARIONETTE!!!**"

Pointing towards the center stage from his raised podium, the ringmaster's grandiose tone could only be the signal for something that was captivating; it was.

Despite being in the middle of the town, in the middle of day, on a makeshift stage, everything seemed to go dark. Small children clung to their mothers, and everyone else eyed the stage warily; after all, it wasn't as if this would be the first time something strange and dangerous happened in Tokyo, Crystal or not.

Smoke began to rise from the crevices of the stage, and gathered about the center in a twisting column. As it built up about two meters, a pair of gloved arms popped out of both sides; they were held as if they were trying to cup something. Then a burst of fireworks temporarily blinded the now-sizable audience, almost preventing them from seeing a clearly humanoid figure shoot out of the smoke, twirl in the air, and land perfectly on its feet, right in the hands of a statue of Neo-Queen Serenity…..twenty feet in the air.

The prevailing darkness suddenly receded, revealing a most peculiar sight, of a most peculiar man, wearing the most peculiar clothing.

This strange man wore a long sleeve shirt with over-sized sleeves, and a pair of slacks with over-sized pant-legs. The shirt was an unusual dark shade of blue on the right, and dirt brown on the left. Both tucked into a pair of gloves that stopped four inches above the elbow; the blue sleeve into a dirt brown glove, the brow into a dark blue one. The pants went a similar route, with the brown being on the right and the blue on the left. Like the shirt, the pants tucked into its appendages accessories in its boots, which followed the same pattern as the gloves and were half an inch short of being womanly.

Completely clashing with this already unusual outfit was a quilt-cape made entirely of square patches, each patch a random different shade of color, the outside completely different from the inside. On anyone else, it would have been hard on the eyes, but on this man it seemed to shimmer, looking almost like a rainbow. On his head was a tall, almost witch-like hat which hid his dark, shoulder length locks; it looked as if it couldn't make up its mind whether it wanted to be a blue hat with dirt brown stripes or a dirt brown hat with blue stripes. But the most peculiar thing of all was the mask that completely hid his face, even his ears.

This mask resembled the smiling and frowning masks seen on the curtains and promos of classic 20th Century Western theater. Resembled, because it included both; the right half of the mask was a smiling white, the left a frowning black.

The audience gaped at this rather foppish individual, who had just displayed an athleticism that counteracted his rather foolish character.

Then it started.

At first it was a small, polite applause, and then it grew louder, and louder, and louder still, until it became unabashed and wild cheering.

The entertainer, Marionette, gave a flamboyant bow at the waist, before taking out three pool-sized balls, and began to juggle for a while. The cheering pattered off at this display of rather common skill, when suddenly he grabbed all three in both hands, brought them down violently at his feet; another explosive burst diverted the audiences eyes, and suddenly he was in the middle of them, receiving yet another burst of applause. Bowing his head, Marionette held up his hand, indicating that he wished for silence.

As a ring slowly formed around him, he suddenly began to make an awkward dance with wild arm and leg movements, a strange _clack-clacking_ sound coming from his body. Suddenly he began to back up, all the while doing his strange dance to the people's confusion; nobody could keep their balance while doing that weird dance, and even the ringmaster from his podium looked confused.

Marionette drew gasps as he seemed to float in mid-air, when a black-cloaked man pointed and cried out, "Look, look! He's attached to strings!"

Sure enough, if one squinted, they could see the stings attached to Marionette; realization began to set in that Marionette was actually, himself, a marionette. The puppet suddenly fell to pieces, and the puppeteer himself sprang out of the stage's back currents, arms raised in victory, before removing his hat and bowing at the waist again.

The audience sat in completely stunned stillness for moment; not one person stirred, all gaping at the performer who had just done the impossible right before their eyes.

Then the black-cloaked man let out a whoop, and that broke the audience out of their spell of silence. The cheers were at their loudest yet, to the point of deafening all other noises.

The ringmaster shook off his own shock, and jumped down from his raised platform, pulling a rope and hiding Marionette behind the front currents.

"There he was, ladies and gentleman, the Amazing Marionette! For the next three months, starting this Saturday every Saturday you can see him and other wonders at the Three-Ring Circus! Pay for your tickets at the door, first come, first served! Children 50 and under get in for half-price! Come one, come all!"

Disappearing behind the current himself, the ringmaster turned around to see Marionette, still bowed at the waist.

"Hey, M, the curtain is down and the crowd's gone, you can get up now…M?"

The now suspicious ringmaster approached the unresponsive figure, and tapped him on the head…only for the hat and hair to fall completely off, revealing a wooden head.

"Damnit, gone again; how the hell does he _do_ that?!"

Walking away from the stage and the now irate-ringmaster, the dark-cloaked man from before began walking purposely towards Tokyo Tower, head bowed so none might question him about his rather peculiar mask…..

* * *

**Crystal Tokyo Airport**

**Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey, which meant that there was plenty of time to prepare; and prepare he did.**

"Ambassador Vlad'ar, we've landed."

The addressed individual turned towards the bearded man wearing a dark uniform, staring just above his employer, never directly at him.

"Hmm? Oh, thank you, Jerald," Vlad'ar replied as he stood up.

As always when looking at his patron, Jerald had to swallow and consciously prevent himself from gasping.

_At least he's trying to hide his shock,_ Vlad'ar thought with bitter amusement. After all, he could admit to himself that he wasn't exactly a sight for the weak of heart, to say nothing of stomachs.

From head to toe, his skin was a light blue, an oddity in and of itself; however, if one were to look long enough, they could see the shifting of muscles, ligaments and bones underneath the skin, and if one was close enough, they could actually _see _them.

Close to the surface of the skin and visible from any distance, multiple small black cables entwined his body from where is head met his neck down to his ankles and wrists. It took little in the way of imagination to realize these cables had replaced his veins and arteries.

On the top of arms, a pair of gold bands outlining the shape of diamonds started on the back of both hands. Each diamond surrounded a circular gem of a unique color; on the right hand was a red and orange-brown gem, the left a yellow and blue. A similar diamond with a white gem was kept on the back of his neck, but this was hidden by his long, thick, dark green hair. A dark green mustache and goatee gave him an almost vampiric face, especially when coupled with his pointed ears and equally pointed canines.

In short, Vlad'ar looked dangerous, disturbing, and unapproachable.

It was a very good thing that the good Neo-King Endymion brought tuxedoes back into style, complete with top hats, capes and gloves, otherwise Vlad'ar would never have been able to wear enough clothes to suitably cover up his unusual appearance without looking tacky.

As he began to slip his own white gloves on, he turned back towards the head of his bodyguard, his sour humor springing up again. "Have we informed Andorra and our hosts that we've arrived for the meeting?"

Jerald's attention was immediately brought back to the present; in 250 years he had seen a lot, and with 150 years of experience in combat and guarding, it didn't take much to hide his personal discomfort and plow on like a good soldier.

"Sir, we've sent word to the Principality, and have yet to receive a reply. The Neo-Crystal government has sent us the standard diplomatic greeting, and directed us to the Lunaria Hotel, which was previously established as our place of residence while in Japan. The Court apologizes that they will not be able to meet with us today as planned, as their Majesties were unexpectedly busy today,"

_Yes,_ Vlad'ar mentally smirked; _they would be, wouldn't they?_

"…and assurances were sent to us that they would meet with us first thing tomorrow morning."

"See to it that everyone gets settled in, Jerald; I'm going for a walk. _Alone._"

"Sir, with all due respect, I can't let you walk out there by yourself; as the head of your security…."

"I'll be fine, Jerald; I'm more then capable of taking care of myself, and this place is advertised as a paradise, is it not- what safer place could I possibly be, Jerald?"

When his bodyguard fixed him with a hard stare, Vlad'ar sighed, "Oh alright, Jerald, I'll take my beacon, and I promise at the first sighting of anyone remotely suspicious, I'll press the little red button; are you happy?"

"Ecstatic, sir," Jerald wryly quipped.

"Good," Vlad'ar said as he grabbed his cane in his right hand and his top hat in his left, "Then if there is nothing else, I'll be off."

"Were will you be going, sir,"" Jerald asked, internally contemplating whether or not to send someone after the ambassador regardless of his wishes and interests.

Vlad'ar turned and fixed him with a smiling stare, causing Jerald to visibly gulp; if Jerald didn't know any better, he'd have sworn that smile was filled with bloodlust.

"I've always wanted to see Tokyo Tower…."

* * *

**Southern Gate**

**Like most dates with Destiny, it had been a long journey; frankly, he was sick and damn tired of waiting.**

As the single man methodically approached the city gates, he looked up at the giant crystal walls that prevented illegal trafficking of goods and people.

If looks could provide as much physical damage as they could emotional, the walls, gates, and perhaps the entire city would have been engulfed in the flames of the man's eyes.

Never stopping in his walk, he didn't notice the two guards until they slammed their spears together, effectively blocking his path.

To his credit, the man didn't even blink.

"Hey you, can't you read? This is an exit only, and it's closed for the day," one of the guards snarled. To be perfectly honest, the two were normally not this snippy, but there was something about this man that just put them off.

Perhaps it was the fact that the man was obviously a foreigner by his Mid-Eastern complexion; even today there was still a lingering of xenophobia among Japan's natives. However, there were foreigners coming in and out all the time, and this was hardly the first time these two guards were approached at this hour, whether by native or foreigner.

Perhaps it was his short, unruly white hair; save for the Lady Ami, the young Princess, and the Queen herself everyone had a natural hair color, and it was frankly disturbing to see white hair. However, there could be multiple explanations for such; it could have been some sort of accident, or bleach, or even simply a very light shade of blonde. Even if his hair was natural, so what; it wasn't as if that was a crime by any stretch of the imagination.

Perhaps it was the way the man dressed, which was certainly suspicious. The upper half of the outfit was a high-collared, long-sleeve shirt, a series of three buttons on the end of each sleeve. The front of the shirt ended at the waist, but the back of it went further down to his ankles, almost like a cape. Starting from the chest, navy blue stripe went down towards his navel, where it branched off down to the outside of his slacks. The stripe also branched off at a slant at the chest, traveling up towards and down his shoulders, until it ended in a ring right above the cuff links. This pattern was mirrored on his back as well, making the stripes come off at points at his hips and shoulders. His shoes were a lace-less boot, covered by his slacks. Save for the stripes, the entire outfit was a deep grey.

A very strange and unusual outfit; but then, this _was_ Crystal Tokyo, and with the many masked balls they had yearly, the only way you wouldn't have seen stranger outfits was if you were blind. Heck, some might call their own uniforms a little odd, seeing as how they comprised of a long sleeve black shirt underneath a white, vest-like armor with the circular half-sun, half-moon crest of Crystal Tokyo etched very largely in silver on the front, culminating in a long, ice blue gown to cover up their armored legs and boots (the color of the gown signified which of the Senshi's unit he or she belonged to; these two happened to belong to Sailor Mercury's) and finalized with a visored helmet that came off into a slanted point. So no, it wasn't the outfit either.

The eyes; yes, it was definitely those lavender eyes. The way they moved, the way they glared at everything and anything, the way they took the man's surroundings in, and seemed to process how long it would take to completely destroy them; the light that reflected from his glasses didn't help matters either.

Yes, this man was evil, or at least had evil intentions, and was to be detained no matter what.

It wasn't until he looked at them and fixed them with a glare to make Satan himself quiver in his boots that they realized this man was also dangerous.

Bringing their spears blue-energy blades closer to bear, they addressed the man again.

"B-bastard, who the hell are you?" one of the guards rasped. The other gave a, 'tch,' as he slowly backed towards the alarm.

"Nekome," the man replied. He turned his attention towards the slowly yet purposefully retreating guard, ignoring the other's spear which was now so close to his neck it gave a fine cut, blood slowly dripping out the end.

"No need for that, guardian; the explosion will draw your companions to this area soon enough."

"Explosion, what explo..." the guard's words were cut off as he noticed a faint blue aura surrounding the man called Nekome, as the aura grew larger and stronger, both guards' eyes widened behind their visors, but neither had the time to scream….

* * *

**Tokyo Tower**

"I don't know whether to be upset at Nekome for not listening to me when I told him to enter the city discreetly, or be happy that, for him, that _was _discreet," Zetsubou sighed.

**You can not get either mad _or_ happy, fool!! What of the barrier!? If that twit tires himself out before he arrives it will be impossible to….**

"Impossible, Master," Zetsubou called out, consciously aware that he was speaking out loud as opposed to merely sending her his thoughts, "Of all our allies-to-be, Nekome is both the strongest-now that he has entered this city-and the most passionate. The very nature of his powers makes him more in danger of burning himself out then exhausting himself, and his passion will remind him of this, causing him to come to us as quickly as possible."

**All well and good, but what about that explosion he recklessly caused? If one of the guards strikes up the alarm and brings out the Senshi, or worse, the Neo-Queen and King, then all our planning will be for nothing!**

"Again, that is impossible, Master. The diameter of Crystal Tokyo is so huge, we can't even see the smoke from this vantage point, and we're right smack dab in the center. Besides, even if the alarm was raised, by the time the guards realized it is a threat that only the Senshi or their own Elite can properly deal with, Nekome will be here already, and the barrier would soon follow."

_Hurry, Nekome; after all, you are hardly the only one who has been waiting a long, long time._

With that ending thought, Zetsubou's thoughts went back towards the three approaching men.

* * *

**Crystal Palace**

Mamoru and Usagi sat in their throne room, on top of the two diamond thrones, the light reflecting about and being focused by them, giving both thrones a rainbow appearance. The Neo-king had long since placed aside his ceremonial mask, and he liberally rubbed his eye lids, only to stop and indignantly glance at his giggling wife.

"What?"

"Have I ever told you how adorable you are when you pout and get all angst-ish?"

"Wha-, how, who….I am so confused."

"Of course you are, silly," Usagi said as she ruffled his hair, "That's why I'm here."

"The most reassuring thing I've heard all day," he drawled.

Usagi lightly punched him in the arm, taking no offense. She knew that it was a joke, and besides, whatever his tone, the words were all to true.

It was then the door opened, instigating Mamoru to stand up on his dais.

He mentally winced as he felt their conflicting emotions, many of which steaming from their dress.

_It had to be done,_ he thought, _Pluto…_

They entered the room, and as they approached the throne room, he thought about nothing else.

They walked, side by side, purposefully, nobly, until they approached the steps. They stopped, staring up at the royal figures, and one in particular. Mamoru stared back, smiling down at each of them. He turned first to the man furthest to his left, each face bringing with it fragmented memories of a time long since past, something beyond the realm of recall yet something that should never be forgotten.

"Jadeite…."

_Two boys of barely eight and nine respectively ran across the field at top speed, just ahead of a ghostly apparition. It seemed, however, that their fright was not of seeing a transparent, pale-white figure chasing after them, but of what said transparent, pale-white figure was saying._

"_Prince Endymion! Jadeite-dono! Get back here this instant! It's time for your history lesson!!"_

…_What, you were expecting something more along the lines of, 'boo?'_

"_Is she catching up?" gasped out the younger Prince._

"_Don't know," the almost-equally winded Jadeite replied, "Too scared to look back and check."_

_Anyone who was bothered by the spectacle need only glance once before knowing enough to just sigh and go back to work._

_Yep, there was no doubt; Endymion and Jadeite were skipping lessons…again…for the third time…this morning…_

_It was only the twelfth turn of the Time-Glass, too._

"_She's catching up," cried out Endymion as he glanced over his shoulder._

"_Doesn't matter," Jadeite called back, still not giving into temptation and looking over his shoulder._

"_You have a plan?" Endymion answered hopefully._

"_Yeah, it's called, 'run faster then you.'"_

"_That's a good…Hey!!! J-Jerk, this was your idea!!"_

"_Ergo, if only one person can reap the benefits, it should be me, don't you think?"_

_Soon in their running, they came up across a stone wall, barely up to the waist of a man; to the young lads not even in their adolescence, it might as well have been the Tower of Babel. _

"_Dead end," the Prince cried out in despair._

_Jadeite didn't bother to reply, merely glared ahead at the obstructing construct. Reaching deep into his reserves, Jadeite put on an extra burst of speed and, with a roar, charged at the wall. Upon reaching it, he placed his back upon it and cupped his hands. _

_The two escaping 'prisoners' glanced at each other and, with a nod, put the makeshift plan into action._

_Endymion ran up to his friend, and without stopping, placed his foot on the offered hands. Jadeite helped launch the now-seven-year-old-cannonball over the wall. Endymion, meanwhile, twisted in mid-air, undid his small cape and hung it down for Jadeite to catch, who with a combination of leaping and using the other boy's momentum, made it over the wall as well._

_So stunned by the success of this impromptu-teamwork the phantom-teacher stood still in awe for only a second._

_That second was all they needed._

_By the time she got her wits about her, the young lords were blazing across the grassland, ready to avoid another lesson by waltzing in the fields, consequences be damned._

"Nephrite…."

"_Why did you have to go, Neph? Jadeite, Zoisite, even Kunzite already left! I don't want to be alone!"_

"_Damnit, Endy, would you quit whining for five minutes?! Five minutes, that's all I ever ask, just five damn minutes, but nooooooooooooooo, you have to go on an on about how you'll be all alone! You're fifteen years old now, and it's only three years, just three damn years!" _

_Here Nephrite's voice took an almost dreamlike quality, "Three years without having to look out for you and Zoisite, three years of not having to put up with Jadeite's mouth, three years of that stick in the mud not showing me up; oh the glorious days ahead of me." _

_He turned towards Endymion again, who was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and face pouting, making him looking very much like he was five. Nephrite scoffed. _

"'_Alone,' do you want me to tell you how stupid that sounds? What are your parents, rice balls?"_

"_No, just busy," the younger man retorted, sticking his tongue out for good effect._

_Nephrite rolled his eyes and went back to packing._

"_You know that it is tradition; when their powers emerge, the Shitennou, avatars of the Four Sacred Beasts, would journey towards their homelands to learn from those who can instruct them. Whereas you must remain here, and learn how to be real royalty, way to busy to be bored; after all, you have to learn how to give orders, become accustomed to having your own way, making senseless demands, behave like a brat…on second thought, you just might be bored out of your min.."_

_He stopped in mid-fold as he began to hear sniffling. He sighed and turned towards Endymion, whose head was bowed down trying to hide the coming tears. _

"_Everyone's leaving, and I'll be here all alone." _

_Nephrite simply eyed Endymion up and down, before sighing and walking up to Endymion, putting a hand on the young prince's shoulder._

"_Idiot," Nephrite said, though none of the previous venom or sarcasm was present, "You can't go through your life depending on others so completely that if they're absent, you break down."_

_Endymion stared for a minute, before he gave a snort._

_Nephrite looked confused. "Did I miss something?"_

"_No, no, it's just that, that sounded more like something Jadeite would say then you."_

_Nephrite merely raised his eyebrows before playfully slapping Endymion's cheek. "Look I promise that I'll try and send a letter at least once a month; no guarantees, though."_

"_Really," a hopeful wide-eyed Endymion looked up at him, before throwing his arms around the now-shocked boy._

"_Really," Nephrite replied with a squirm, "Now get the hell out of my room; you've been here a while, and they're rumors aplenty about the five of us already."_

"Zoisite…"

"_I'm telling you Zoi, I saw her; your move."_

"_Endymion, are you at all aware how that sounds?" Zoisite ventured, advancing his rook._

'_Improbable?" Endymion somewhat sheepishly admitted, as he looked at the board in confusion. He then made a somewhat confident move forward with a knight._

"'_Improbable,' doesn't even begin to cover it," Zoisite admonished while casually moving a pawn up the board, more interested in this conversation, " What you are suggesting is that someone managed to get to the Earth's core, bypass the dimensional rift that leads to here, penetrate Elysion's defenses, and avoid Kunzite's meticulously and methodically placed security measures and simply walked in the forest, someone who by your description clearly wasn't the Memory of a deceased human that temporarily populate the Golden Kingdom; since it was a young woman by your accounts, we can clearly rule out your parents and us. That leaves…no one."_

"_I suppose that _is _a little far-fetched, even for a place with ghosts."_

"_For the last time, Endymion," Zoisite said with an exacerbated sigh, "They are NOT ghosts; the people who populate Elysion are the memories of those who have already passed on, whether to Heaven, Hell, or Rebirth, and in fact are the manifestation of their most powerful memory, no matter what it is: love, hate, friends, loyalty, or whatever. The more powerful the memory, the longer they remain and the more contact they are able to have in the real world, though they are completely tangible here. In fact, they are what many people call the 'spirits' of the Earth; some of them merge with the Memories of animals, accounting for some of the stranger Memory sightings we've seen. Among their various 'uses'…"_

"… '_Are summonings, possessions, and necromancy, the last two are illegal, and the first requires special permission, as all three are considered an injustice to the dead,'" Endymion went on in a bored tone, " To quote Nephrite, 'Whatever, sounds like a ghost to me.' I swear, the only thing that's wrong with you, Zoisite, is that you aren't an old man." He briefly considered moving his queen before deciding to move his knight again._

_For his part, Zoisite had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Okay, so I tend to ramble and quibble over fine points, but my point still stands; your, 'mystery girl,' was just a figment of your imagination; nothing more."_

"_Yeah, but…" Endymion slumped forward, cupping his head in his hands, "I can't help but think I'll really saw her and that I'll see her again…"_

_Zoisite looked at his slightly younger friend and soon-to-be-liege lord in slight concern. "Endymion…are you alright?"_

"_Hmm? Oh, I'm fine, Zoi; your move."_

_Zoisite looked at the board for less then a second before brightening up; with a smile that had all the innocence of the child he no longer was and none of the smugness of the victor who completely outclassed his opponent that he had become, Zoisite moved his bishop half-way across the board. _

"_Checkmate!" He cried out happily._

_Endymion's eyes widened, his mouth dropped. Looking up at the beaming Zoisite, he said pretty much the only thing a guy _could_ say in this situation._

"_I hate you."_

"Kunzite…"

_It was a special place, one that only they knew. Neither had told anyone else_ _about its location._

_Not any of the Memories._

_Not his parents._

_Not even Jadeite, Nephrite, or Zoisite._

_He hadn't even told Serenity._

_No, here was a sacred place, one where only the two of them could enter, and no one else._

_Here, in the Waterfall Under the Mountain, they stood, facing each other, naked from the waist up, each holding a blade in his hands. Kunzite exchanged his ceremonial short blade for the two-handed scimitar of his homeland that vaguely resembled a katana; he the broadsword of his fore-fathers._

_Here they had their eyes closed, gazing into blackness in personal reflection as the waterfall's mist pelted their flesh. _

_In minutes, they would break out of their meditations and clash weapons, safe from the prying eyes of those who would try and say that they were taking it too far._

After that, _Endymion thought with the conviction of one who had put something off for far too long_, I'll tell him after this bit of normalcy.

_Today would be a very important day; a day whose deeds would have consequences that would span millennia._

_Today would be the day he told Kunzite of his plan to heal the rift between the Golden Kingdom and the Silver Alliance once and for all._

_It would be risky, Endymion knew, and Kunzite had expressed his own views on the matter time and time again; frolicking with the Princess was one thing, negotiating without the approval of the Great Nations quite another; with the decline of the Endymion's father's health before Endymion himself was of age, the Golden Kingdom was little more then a shadow of it's former role to 'Protect the Earth from Within.' The Great Nations had assumed a level of control that had only been matched few times before, and they would not appreciate their toes being stepped on, especially if it is perceived as being for the benefit of those they hated and were hated by with a passion. _

_While such situations had certainly arisen in the past-with disastrous results for each one-Endymion's position was not stable, not while his father was still able to draw breath. So long as there was someone else the leaders of the Great Nations could point to and say, "Here is our true leader," Endymion's position as heir-apparent and regent meant nothing._

_Besides, Kunzite had his own privately-kept suspicions about the Lunarians, reasons that would no doubt be vocalized after this plot was revealed. _

_However, Kunzite, in one way or another, spoke for the entire Shitennou, and it would be through them Endymion would try to convince his world of the folly of their hatred towards the Moon race._

_It would be difficult to convince Kunzite, but convinced he must be, for the sake of peace._

_That would be later, though. That was something that belonged to the future; as Jadeite once said, "Let the future belong to the future, the past belong to the past, and the present belong to all."_

_Endymion opened his eyes and stared ahead at Kunzite, who had awoken from his trance earlier. Both men's stoic look never changed._

_They spread their legs into a fighting stance; Endymion brought his sword parallel to his face pointing up, Kunzite lowered his sword until it was by his side, cupping his hands so that he could slash his sword at lightening quick speed._

"_Something's bothering you, my Prince."_

"_I'll tell you when we're finished, Kunzite."_

_The other man nodded in reply._

_This was now, this was their time, and Heaven help any who disturbed them._

_A fish flopped out of the water, and they lunged…_

Mamoru looked down on each one, unshed tears in his eyes. With a smile that embraced them all, he forgot his pompous speech that Usagi insisted he prepare and simply said what was in his heart.

"Welcome back."

* * *

**South Gate Garrison**

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

To counter the previous scene of loving familiarity, a scene of unheard of carnage must take place.

It did.

"You bastard; stop right there!!"

Nekome halted, but not because of the words; within seconds he was surrounded by blue-skirted soldiers, all of them with spears. Nekome paid them no heed, and was instead fascinated with the palm of his right hand.

"You have a lot of gall, invader."

Two of the spearman parted ranks, and a man with shoulder-length blonde hair walked out. The man carried himself with authority, and it was plain to see from the deference the spearmen paid him, his decorative white headband in place of a helmet, and a pair of pointed shoulder pads on his white chest plate that he was the man in charge. He carried no spear, but a long, metallic stick was strapped to his side, and his right hand never strayed from it.

"You break open Their Majesties' gate, killed my subordinates, our comrades, threaten to spread discord in this peaceful city at the expense of the people, trample our pride, and worst of all, have the brass to think that you'd actually get away with it. Well, you advance no further, my foolish friend." With that he waved his left arm at Nekome, "Take him-…"

"Amazing," Nekome interrupted with a wonder-filled voice. The Captain and his men looked on in puzzlement as the entranced invader went on, "Simply amazing. He told me that the change would be dramatic, logically I knew I'd get at least a little stronger, but this…" His awed face now took a demon-like grin, and he clenched his hand into a tightly held fist. "With this much power, I have the strength to crush that bastard, and any who stand in my way."

The captain, who had by this time taken the metal prop into his hand, was listening to this rambling tirade with confusion, but the end of that last sentence, at least, was clear enough.

"My my, it seems we're being underestimated," He said as he grabbed the object with both hands and held it before him. The portion of the item above his hands split into a 'V', and an ice-blue energy-blade jettisoned out.

"We are the proud soldiers of their Majesties' Mercurian Division, Third Squad; Caris Trent, the greatest of the Elite, was my swordsmaster," he declared with great pride, noting his subordinates now assuming combat positions. "Don't take the soldiers of Captain Kyuzo lightly," he went on, his voice now dangerously low.

Nekome glanced up, as if noticing the group for the first time. "What, you're finally here? What took you all so long?"

_That_ was the last straw. "Get him!!"

With a cry, the soldiers charged down on Nekome, their spears at the ready. For his part, Nekome simply turned to the fastest bunch, and held his body so the shoulders were parallel to the direction he was facing. Spreading his legs out, he held up his right arm, holding his hand as if it were grasping something. He then took his left hand and placed it at his right's wrist, then drew it back to his right shoulder as if he was supporting something between his index finger and thumb.

"What's with that stupid stance?" A number of the soldiers jeered, "You can't defend yourself like that!"

"I'll avenge our comrades' deaths!" Another shouted, and lunged with his spear.

For his part, Kyuzo was more wary then insulted by this strange stance; he knew something was up. "Idiot; run away!!"

Nekome separated his index and thumb. In the next instant, the charging soldier had a sizable hole in his chest, wide enough for a child of ten to crawl through. Not that a child of ten would want to; what little of his innards hadn't been vaporized or seared shut were splattered on the ground slightly ahead and behind him. For a brief instant, he tried to breathe through lungs that were no longer there, and then collapsed dead.

Nekome, the only one unfazed by this action, simply smirked and, with closed eyes, begin to repeat his strange stance.

Soldiers began to burst like fireworks, with blood replacing sparks, and screams instead of explosions.

Kyuzo was frozen in place, a look of worry that was in danger of becoming terror etched in his features as, one by one, his men were blown apart.

_Wha- What is this guy?_ He focused his eyes, forcing himself to analyze this strange technique. _The destruction only occurs after the fingers separate, with a slight delay in between. Psyonic blasts? Rather then give it physical manifestation, he directly focuses his mental energy along his arm in the direction it is facing, and then releases it with his other. It is potentially stronger then magic given form by elements, emotions and summons, and a lot more direct. However, it has a distinct weakness; it requires a great deal more concentration then, 'normal' magic; the slightest distraction would briefly render him helpless. _

When Nekome turned to him, Kyuzo was ready.

Nekome released his fingers, and Kyuzo dodged; the wall behind him suffered great damage, but Kyuzo himself was unharmed. Nekome simply raised his eyebrows from behind his glasses, before continuing to target Kyuzo.

Through athletic front-flips, cartwheels, and reading of his opponent, Kyuzo was able to dodge each blast, damaged infrastructure Nekome's only reward.

Kyuzo glared at Nekome before reaching into a pouch at his back, and drew forth three small blue orbs, and flung them at Nekome. Within moments, the orbs became two sizable streams of water. They wrapping around each other and hurled themselves at Nekome with great speed.

For his part, Nekome side-flipped to his left, barely avoiding what could have been a lethal blow. In the split second he was upside down, he saw that Kyuzo's opportunistic offensive forced him to roll to a stop, and he released his fingers, his right arm never stopping to face Kyuzo.

The aforementioned captain stood at attention and brought his sword up, grasping it with both hands. He waited mere milliseconds before bringing his sword down with a cry. On the way down, the blade was meant with great resistance before it was able to complete its swing down, much to Nekome's shock and awe. As if to emphasize Kyuzo's success, directly to either side of him, the ground erupted in a small explosion.

"Even if it is an invisible psyonic blast, it still has to have physical form in order to do damage!" Kyuzo cried out with a cocky grin. "While avoiding your blasts, I was estimating the time it took to reach me from you!"

"Tch," Nekome grunted in reply with a glare. As his body straightened out, he brought down his left foot, and then his right to the sound of a **_crack._**

_Crack?_

Nekome instinctively glanced at his right foot, where a sudden chill began to spread. The sight that greeted him widened his eyes with surprise; ice had incased his foot, and was beginning to travel up his leg, stopping just shy of his knee.

_When did he…he drew _three_ orbs, but only _two_ streams of water appeared…I've been had!!!_

Upon realization of this trickery, Nekome glared up at Kyuzo, who was now bearing down on his immobilized foe.

"Take this!" Kyuzo cried as he stabbed at Nekome. From his sword handle, the same three orbs that he threw at Nekome began to glow. The power of water and ice flowed along the blade, and exited the tip. It culminated in a flash of blue light.

When the dust settled, Kyuzo saw his blade flicker and vanish; the magic in the orbs that powered his blade gone. Panting heavily, he looked up and smiled at his handiwork.

In a linear direction towards the direction his sword had been pointing, a large block of ice stretched for fifteen yards, two meters tall and one meter wide.

_Did I get him? _He thought with some glee. His expression sobered as he looked on the results of his attack some more, and began to reach for his pouch once again, grabbing hold of one orb. _No, I didn't; how could he possibly have move-_

He felt a searing pain travel along his forearm; turning around, he saw what little of his pouch and its contents that were not destroyed were scattered to far out of arms reach.

He looked up to see Nekome standing atop a garrison house, leg still incased in ice. This time, Kyuzo made no attempt to hide his horror.

"When the hell did he," was all he managed to rasp out before Nekome took that same stance that preceded the elimination of all his men.

"Shit!"

Activating the single orb he had left, he was able to create a sizable buckler of ice before he felt something crash into it, driving him backwards with great force, smashing him into a building behind him. When he crumpled into the ground, he knew he was messed up; his left arm was probably damaged beyond healings aid; his buckler and armor unable to survive the blast and crumbled to pieces around him. He felt himself losing blood from various gashes along his body, including the back of his head. His spine was probably fractured, as he felt its fluid coming up his throat.

In a blur, Nekome was before him.

"It seems," he said in a lecturing tone as if Kyuzo was an erring yet beloved student, "That you misread my power. You believed that I focused psychic energy along my arm, then released it with my other hand in the form of a psyonic blast, like a cannon. That's wrong; here, let me gather a bit more energy, so that you can see what you were _really _fighting against."

Holding his right arm out, he closed his eyes, and a sky blue aura outlined his body. Suddenly his eyes snapped open, and there it was, plain as day before Kyuzo's eyes.

_A…a bow…_

"That's right," Nekome said, correctly interpreting Kyuzo's expression. "A bow made from the raw magical energy in the near-by atmosphere. Normally I have to do with the energy that I consciously and that both man and beast unconsciously release, but here in Crystal Tokyo, where magical residue is so strong one would choke on it if it were possible…"

Nekome left the sentence unfinished, allowing Kyuzo's hazy mind to fill in the blanks. Glancing at his still-ice-encased leg, a sent a concentration of power along it, finally breaking his leg out of his prison.

"You were different from these other bugs; unlike those flies, you actually had some sting to you, little hornet. However," he continued as he brought his now-visible bow into position, drawing back his arm that was now quite clearly an arrow made of the same energy as the bow, focused into a point with killing intent, "Whether hornet or fly, a bug by any other name is still a bug, and bugs must be squashed."

He pointed the arrow at Kyuzo's head, giving him a few more parting words, "I thank you, at least, for providing me with a chance to actually test my power."

The last thing Kyuzo saw before he died was a flash of blue light….

* * *

**Crystal Palace**

For the longest time, they stared at each other; monarchs and nobles, friends and enemies, saviors…and traitors.

It went on like this for several minutes, before Mamoru finally was able to break the ice. "So, how do you like it here?"

For their part, even Kunzite was unable to keep himself from showing signs of being startled; of all the questions Mamoru could have asked, that was the most unexpected.

"How do we like it here, you ask?" Zoisite said with a tug of his braid, before a glance from Kunzite gave him reason to keep his hands at his sides. "Well, how do I put this…it's very interesting and slightly…unusual."

"And by, 'unusual,'" Nephrite added with his arms crossed, "He means you're being a prick of unusual proportions, even by your standards."

Mamoru stared, wide-eyed at Nephrite, who merely raised an eyebrow in defiance. Mamoru then snorted; the snort became a giggle; the giggle became a full belly laugh.

When his mirth subsided, he whipped a tear from his eye.

"You never change, do you, Nephrite?" he asked the man in question, who only smiled in response.

"Can't say the same about you, Chiba Mamoru," Jadeite suddenly spoke up. Everyone in the room suddenly looked at him, eyes all widened in disbelief, and in one case, hurt.

Never mind the fact that Jadeite, the only man who respected titles and positions more then Kunzite addressed Mamoru as an equal in a sneering, demanding tone-even Nephrite's accusing teasing had a slight reverence to it-he had called Mamoru by his current name, not his previous one.

Mamoru had long since resigned himself to the fact that, if a relationship was ever reestablished between himself and his Shitennou, there would be a difference between their bond and that shared between Usagi and her Inner, even Outer Court. Since they were reincarnated at the same time, the Senshi knew her as Usagi, with Serenity as the mask; the Shitennou knew him as Endymion, with Chiba Mamoru being the mask, and one they almost completely ignored at that.

That any one of them would address him as 'Chiba Mamoru' was, simply put, unthinkable.

When he recovered, Mamoru turned towards Jadeite once again. "What do you mean, Jadeite?"

"What I mean, Mamoru, is that the Endymion we knew would never even consider putting us through this; so what, you resurrected us, freed us from our prisons, gave us nifty new bodies…and expected us to be on our knees, grateful that your forcing us to face things we never wanted to, were content never doing?! When did ANY of us ask you, even hint at, wanting to be out of those stones?!!! We were still able to protect you from those prisons, and we could still advise you, more then enough to set our minds at ease. You even have the gall to dress us in this….these…..abominations!!" Jadeite cried out, gesturing to his uniform.

"So no, Chiba Mamoru, I don't think you're much like you once were at all. Then again, what did I expect? You never were Endymion to begin with, just his recycled soul with a few memories of a specific past life awakened to correct the Moon's past mistakes and rule a monarchy without making a total fool of yourself."

"Jadeite!" Kunzite's roar came too late; the words were said, the damage was done.

Mamoru was stunned; sinking in his chair like someone had struck him. He had somewhat anticipated such an accusation, but had never seriously entertained the thought; his Shitennou would NEVER deny him.

That it came from Jadeite was a particular blow, since out of all the Shitennou's faiths and personal beliefs-Kunzite being a devout Jew, Zoisite a practicing Greek-Orthodox Christian, and Nephrite a nominal Roman Catholic (though Mamoru more then half-suspected that Nephrite's spiritual leanings were agnostic at best) - Jadeite, as both a Confucian and a Buddhist would have the least difficulty accepting the fact that he was both Endymion and Mamoru, the differences subtle at best.

A soft hand at his shoulder helped him recover, and he now stood from his throne facing Jadeite head-on, reaching inside himself, he found that personality that was both his own yet not, the mantle that was difficult to put on yet easy to bare, that part of him that was different yet wasn't; Endymion.

"Very well, Jadeite, if you wish to play that line and make yourself feel better, feel free to do so, though I'm shocked that you would strike so low; if anyone at all, I thought it would be Nephrite who would make such an outburst." Endymion went on, waving Nephrite's vocal 'Hey,' with a wave.

"In spite of your tone, you do deserve some answers; Firstly, I resurrected you in spite of your wishes and my pleas for you to reconsider your positions were because Pluto said that we had need of you; your attire, too, came at Pluto's suggestion that you needed to be made aware of the past. Secondly, since we are being so blunt, I would like to know exactly what happened back _then_, so we can put it behind us and, if possible, take precautions against it!"

It was then that Mamoru-Endymion realized that he had fallen right into Jadeite's trap.

"Oh, you're good," he grudgingly congratulated.

"Thanks," was all the reply forthcoming.

* * *

**Tokyo Tower**

As Nekome approached the construct, the observer in him couldn't help but notice that no one was here. For what continued to be a major tourist attraction, that was more then a little unusual. Well, He did say they would meet alone.

He then noticed three people, all separated, paying no more heed to each other then they did to him. Well, since they were supposed to meet alone, they would have to be eliminated. Glancing at a hunched over, black cloaked figure, he summoned his bow with the same energy he used to kill that hornet's flies, and let loose an arrow.

Nekome was trying to kill this man, and was justifiably confident of his abilities considering he just killed an entire squad of trained military men who were hardened by battles with monsters and insurgents.

So it came as an understandable shock when not only did this hunched over figure avoid his arrow, he did it by leaping at least twenty feet in the air. While doing so, the dark cloak fell away, revealing the most oddly dressed fellow he'd ever seen which covered a _lot_ of ground.

_Are those…_**SPRINGS**_…attached to his feet?_

As the figure landed before him, he gave a little bow.

"Oh me, oh my, that was a magnificent shot! I must say, Mr. Archer, that in my long years of performing-long, _long _years-I've been fired, thrown out the building, had enough fruit and vegetables thrown at me to eat over three life-times, and booed off the stage. This was the first time someone's ever _shot _at me, though; I was a little disappointed in it myself, but I really don't think my performance today was _that_ bad!"

Nekome didn't even bother to address the lunatic, but simply raised his bow and fired multiple shots, quick as lightening.

The clown began to move in an outrageous dance that would have made any ordinary observer just stare in complete disbelieve that _anyone_ could do that and not feel like the world's biggest fool, as it was complete with exaggerated hand motions, twisting torso, 'running in place,' and even accompanying his dance with vocals; "Duh-da-duh-da-duh, duh-da-duh-da-duh!!"

Yet, despite its silliness, no matter how close they came, not one arrow hit or even so much as grazed the man.

When Nekome finally felt like a big enough of an idiot to stop, the man hunched over, trying to catch his breath.

"Zowie," he cried out, fanning himself with over-the-top hand motions, "_That_ was close." He stood at attention then, a series of small throwing knives appearing in his hands. His voice was still light-hearted, but there was an undeniable undertone of danger, anger, and promise of violence. "Well then, is it my turn?"

Nekome, for his part, prepared to strengthen both himself and his bow, increasing its speed by absorbing the near-by magic residue, when suddenly a large dust cloud came at them both, causing them to look in its direction.

Both jumped out of the way, and when the dust settled, they saw a fine fissure in the ground, as if someone cut it with a sword.

"You disturbed my prayers and may draw attention to this place; if you must beat each other to a pulp, I am politely asking you to do it elsewhere; I'm meeting someone here."

The figure that challenged them stepped out of the dust cloud, revealing it to be a Native American medicine man, proudly wearing the robes of his office.

The clown, for his part, just stared at the man and pointed. "Dude, what's _with_ that outfit?"

Stunned at the question, or perhaps because he didn't expect it from the person it came from, the confused priest never noticed Nekome strengthen his bow and shoot at him until it was almost right in front of his face.

What should have been another messy murder was instead a timely rescue, as a deep, dark-red chord came from nowhere, snapping the arrow in half. All three heads followed the chord toward this new interloper, who wielded it like a whip from a black shaft with a golden guard protecting his hand. With a flick of the wrist, the whip surrounded him before it shrank and straightened out into a thin, rapier-like blade. With a twist of his wrist, he sheathed it in a short scabbard, and the guard folded in on itself, giving the weapon the appearance of a cane.

The figure himself was an unusual blue-skinned goateed man, dressed in a tuxedo complete with a top hat.

"Most interesting," he said in a deep, cultured voice, "I too am meeting someone here, holy man."

"All of you are," A new voice that all of them recognized spoke, "Now please follow Vlad'ar's example and sheathe your weapons."

With some slight hesitation, knives were sheathed and bows were allowed to disappear.

"I really must apologize to you, Ohanzee, Vlad'ar; Marionette and especially Nekome are…acquired tastes."

A man stepped out of the shadows, unnoticed by any until now. He was outfit was similar to Nekome's in that it had a one piece shirt whose back-half descend in a coat-like tail; however, where as Nekome's was in one solid piece, this man's was split down the middle, each independently flapping in the wind. Pants and boots completed the picture, and an intricate stripped pattern that seemed to shift every second in a constant, disordered flow decorated it. To cliché the entire outfit, it was completely black, even the stripe, albeit in a darker shade.

This dark-haired man smiled behind sunglasses that hid his eyes, as he took in each of the four men.

"What are you playing at, Zetsubou?" Nekome challenged, ignoring the surprised looks thrown his way that the he knew this man. "You said you'd help me get revenge, and to meet you here alone."

Zetsubou, pushing his sunglasses up his nose, was silent for moment. Then he spoke up.

"'I can guide and lead you in your quest for vengeance,' 'my master will provide you with the opportunity you wait for,' 'meet me here in Crystal Tokyo, unseen by prying eyes.' I believe those were my exact words, to each of you."

"And who is this mysterious benefactor, your 'master'?" Vlad'ar questioned.

"She can not reveal herself now, or it would rain down unwanted attention on us. Come, I've designated an area for each of you to stand; all you have to do is summon your energy during the correct moment-which will be painfully obvious when it happens-and we will create a base from which we can operate, retreat to, and meet my master in safety." With that, Zetsubou turned his back to them and began to walk away.

"What exactly are we doing, though?" Ohanzee questioned, not feeling that explanation answered the question.

"Declaring war, Ohanzee; we are declaring war."

As he walked, he looked into his glasses, confirming that the other four were following from their reflections. "Gentlemen, like all dates with Destiny, it has been a long journey; our journey, however, is now over."

* * *

**Crystal Palace**

"So, let me get this straight," Nephrite spoke up, breaking the silence, "Part of the reason you brought us back-against our wishes-was so that you could question us in a more personal setting about things we've pretty much established that we either don't remember or don't want to talk about, and you're last resort was to play the 'guilt' card?"

Endymion sighed, and glared at Jadeite, who was congratulating himself on a job well done.

"It's not quite that simple, Nephrite," Endymion sighed.

"My lord, we…" Zoisite was cut off by a raised hand from Kunzite.

"We can not tell you what happened, my lord; like yours, our memories of that time are incomplete."

Endymion sharply glanced at Kunzite, "Interpreted one way, that answer hardly answers my question."

Kunzite shrugged, "It is the only answer I can give."

Sighing, Endymion sank back into his chair, and Mamoru looked up. "Very well, if that's all that you are willing to say on the subject for now, then we will move on to more immediate concerns. First things first; you are my friends, and you may stay here as honored guests for as long as you like. If you wish, I can reintegrate you as officers in the military, though your initial standing will be below the Elite, let alone the Senshi; Mina, unfortunately, insisted upon it. And while we haven't authorized it, be prepared for at least the Senshi's and maybe other high-ranked officers spy networks to tail you for a while; the….history of our battles is relatively well known for propaganda purposes, and your identities are well-known."

Kunzite bowed his head, accepting his demotion with grace and dignity. Zoisite lowered his head in defeat, and Jadeite mumbled something with a slight laugh that sounded something suspiciously like, "Of course."

Nephrite took a rather…different approach.

"Now wait just one damn minute!!" He roared, "What do you mean, 'network of spies?' 'We're relatively well known,'? WHAT IS THIS ENDYMION!!?"

Mamoru glanced up in alarm; if Nephrite lost his temper here…

Kunzite moved to restrain Nephrite, but the man had already set a foot on the first step of the dais.

"Are you saying we're untrustworthy?! Is THAT what you are saying?"

Suddenly an arm was slung across his chest, gripping his shoulder. Nephrite looked down in shock before looking to his side; Endymion was there, his low voice echoing in the chamber.

"If I thought even for a moment, Nephrite, that I couldn't trust you with both my life and the lives of those I care about, then I would have smashed your stones years ago myself."

For his part, Nephrite was significantly cowed; _I didn't see him move, I didn't even see him stand up. I blinked, and he was gone. That's impossible._

And then, they felt it.

* * *

**Tokyo Tower**

As they all stood in their designated spots, the five men looked over at those immediately to their left and right; they stood, surrounding Tokyo Tower and a significant portion of the outlying area from five different points.

"Well then," Zetsubou began, pointing to his left, "Shall we begin?"

Green energy surrounded him, and a jade beam shot out of his pointed finger towards Nekome, the farthest from him in that direction. For his part, Nekome activated his own aura as a defense, yet it simply touched his defense, changed its color to match Zetsubou's, and reflected off diagonally from him into Marionette, who was the closest to Zetsubou on his right.

Marrionette's story was much the same as Nekome's though his aura was brought up a good deal sooner then Nekome's. The beam reflected off of Marionette, lacing directly across from him towards Ohanzee, who simply raised his aura as he was instructed. The beam bounced diagonally down from him, crossing the beam connecting Nekome and Marionette, and sped directly towards Vlad'ar, who by this point had figured out _exactly_ what was going on.

"Well, isn't this…macabre," he quipped, rolling his eyes as he nonetheless acquiesced to Zetsubou's earlier request.

The beam shot back towards Zetsubou, now connecting him with each of his four compatriots. From above, it looked like a giant green pentagram had surrounded Tokyo Tower. Zetsubou looked up, and began to mumble something under his breath.

As the other four looked on, above Tokyo Tower, a black-violet mass began to assemble; looking at it, one could swear that it was flowing like a fluid in the air. Green beams shot up from each of the points, and all five were knocked back, landing on their feet only by their own athletic abilities.

As Nekome looked up, he saw that both Tower and blob had been seized by the pentagram in a shield; it was quite literally impossible to see through; while not even a passable scryer, he nonetheless tried to extend his senses toward the shield, and was amazed that he felt…absolutely nothing.

_I'm not _that_ bad,_ he thought before a tingling sensation tickled the palm of his right hand. Glancing at it, he saw a small green pentagram glowing, resonating with its larger cousin.

_Have no fear, _Zetsubou's voice filled his mind, to Nekome's complete shock; he had spent the better half of his existence building up his mental defenses.

_We are connected to the shield, and that mark on your hand allows you to come and go from it freely. As I'm sure you are all aware of by now, this self-sustaining shield prevents any penetration, whether it be magical or science, physical or mental; it will simply take that strength and add it to its own. Only the five of us, and those we grant temporary passage, are able to come and go freely. So long as one of us draws breath and wills a safe haven, this shield will remain standing. Now, that mark on your hand will disappear when you are a fifty feet away from the barrier, but it will only fade away entirely if you loose the will for vengeance or if you die; those are the only two scenarios where that will happen, so please, no one plan on cutting off your hand, or someone who picks it up will be able to enter as freely as us._

_Come, it is safe to enter, and my master, whom you saw gathering least she be permanently ejected, is waiting for us._

Nekome began to walk towards the barrier, glancing atOhanzee, who was still entranced with the mark on his palm, probably much the same as Marionette and Vlad'ar were. As Nekome touched the barrier, he was surprised that something giving off so much energy was so…cool to the touch. Pressing in, he was equally shocked that entering it felt much the same as entering a pool of water. He sucked in his breath, and plowed through.

* * *

**Crystal Palace-Throne Room**

Each of them felt it; feelings of pure malice, a collection of hate…then nothing.

Standing in shocked silence, Nephrite was the first to say something, "Okay, I'll bite; Whaaaat the hell was that?"

Jadeite rolled his eyes and ran towards the open window overlooking the city. Staring at the star-column coming from the center of the city, he closed his eyes and brought his index and middle fingers together in front of his face, thumb slightly bent. With an effort that his untested body could ill afford to make, Jadeite projected his mind towards that column.

* * *

**Crystal Palace-Holy Gardens**

Rei was off in a dead run, leaving her fellow Senshi in her wake as she sped towards her Temple; she had long since kicked off her high heels, and was now running barefoot at breakneck speed.

Reaching the Gardens, climbing the stone steps, and pushing past the sliding doors, Rei didn't pay any heed to the Shrine Maidens, who protested that even the Head Priestess would walk here with dirty feet, but Rei was in a hurry; besides, the 'cleansing' ritual of her feet, or any other body part for that matter, tickled like crazy, and she was in no mood to become a giggling mess, thank you very much.

She walked straight to the Sacred Fire, and began to chant; while she was one of the greatest receptive psychics who ever lived, projecting her own mind was something she always needed help with; thankfully, the Sacred Fire was more then willing to lend a hand, as always, and she bended her mind to Tokyo Tower.

* * *

When Rei 'arrived', she was surprised that she was taken merely outside the green structure, and not into it. She walked up and tried to place her hand on it, but felt repelled, as though she were a magnet of the same polarity. Turning to her side in contemplation, she 'saw' a most unexpected sight…and unwelcome.

Jadeite 'stared' back at her, and in a long moment, the two 'stood' in unwanted silence, unwanted fragments of unwanted memories bubbling to the surface.

Jadeite was the first to turn with a sneering grunt, and Rei followed suit with haughty 'humph'. Both stopped, however, as they sensed something on the other side of the barrier. With a simple thought, they both shifted to the other side, side-by-side.

There they saw _him _for the first time.

He had his back to them, and neither had yet made an attempt to enter his mind, but they could both feel it, this man's power.

_Nice to meet you, Rei Hino the Senshi of Mars; nice to meet you, Jadeite, Lord and Guardian of the East. I am Zetsubou, Maker of your Doom._

Nothing can prepare for the shock of a scryer being scryed in return; they weren't in this man's head, and neither was there a connection formed between them from one side or the other, or even between each other for that matter. Communication on any level should be impossible; his mind hadn't even left his body, or they'd see it's 'image' now!

Yet here he was, talking to the both of them plain as day; both heard it, and both knew it.

Zetsubou turned around, and smiled right at them, a smile that chilled Rei to her 'bones' and caused her to 'shudder'. A quick look at Jadeite was able to salvage her pride as she saw him suffer the same way.

Their attention was immediately back on this Zetsubou, however, when he raised his arm, and a 'ripple' shot from his palm.

_Son of a bitch!!!_ Was all Jadeite was able to 'cry out' before both were repelled.

* * *

When Jadeite's mind was slammed back into his body, he went sailing into the wall. Crashing into it, he spit out blood before loosing consciousness.

"JADEITE!!!!" Zoisite yelled out, outstretching his arm as if to grab him from a distance. Nephrite stared incredulously at the crumpled heap of his friend, and Kunzite made as if to rush over.

It was Endymion, however, who reached him first, picking him up as if he were a child. His wife was beside him in an instant, holding her glowing hand over Jadeite's head. Together, the two walked out of the throne room, followed by the other three.

* * *

When Rei was slammed back into her body, she was 'lucky;' all she had was a splitting headache.

The Sacred Fire, however, was almost snuffed out, and she ignored her own pain enough to call for the Shrine Maidens, who threw blessed logs on the Fire to prevent it from burning out.

"Head Priestess, what was that foul stench we sensed? What is wrong?" One of the older Maidens asked worriedly.

_What is wrong,_ Rei thought incredulously, _everything!!!_

She had just met someone who could establish psychic connections between multiple people against their will-no, without them even realizing-all without leaving his own mind; something that was absolutely impossible. Establishing connections like that required all participants to be sufficient receptive psychics, and at least one a half-way decent projective psychic, but either way at least one person was leaving their mind and entering someone else's. This man was able to by-pass that fundamental rule.

"Inform the Queen and King," she said at last, "Tell them that we are in terrible danger."

Her duty done, Rei allowed herself to slip into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Tokyo Tower**

The moment the two psychics had been banished, Zetsubou dropped his smile, turned and swiftly entered the barrier. What greeted him was a tower-fortress that was surrounded in a waste land. Finished taking in the sights, he towards the tower-fortress, entering to see Marionette, Ohanzee, Vlad'ar and Nekome all seated around a circular table, each sitting at the point of its pentagram design.

Walking at the head of the table, he stood in front of his chair. "Each of you has come because you acknowledged that you can not gain vengeance alone, and vengeance is, if not the most important thing in your life, something too important to put off any longer. So, we-my Master and I-have offered to lead and guide you in your quests, asking only that you listen to us without question, and believe us when we say we shall make your targets suffer like each of you has suffered. If that is unacceptable, then you may depart now in safety, with no hard feelings."

For a brief while, no one spoke; then Ohanzee gave voice to their mutually agreed concerns.

"'Never enter a bargain where you are the only one who has revealed your cards;' these are wise words said to me by someone a long time ago. You know our cards, but we haven't seen yours; what do you and your master get out of this, and who is your master, anyway? I think I speak for everyone when I say that we need answers to those, at least, before we can give you ours."

"Fair questions, Ohanzee, and they deserve to be answered. In the first place, I won't insult anyone's intelligence here by making you believe that we are doing this for altruistic reasons; this is vengeance, and altruism has no place. My master's aims are, in the end, like everyone else's here; entirely self-serving. It is simply that, by helping you achieve your goals, my Master comes within a hair's breath of achieving hers. That's all there is to it.

"As to my master's identity, I believe it's time that was revealed as well, don't you think, Master?"

**Yes, Zetsubou; it is.**

Again came the sickening feeling; again, the black-purple, fluid-like blob appeared, only this time, it took the shape of a head, a head with a jewel in the center.

Zetsubou walked over before it, and then reverently bowed, his knee touching the waist.

"Behold my Master, and your benefactor; Metallia."


	4. Chapter 3: Spiritual Crisis

**Chapter 3: Spiritual Crisis**

_It is not a pleasant place to be, inside one's own culpable conscience._

_Of all the jails in the world, there is none so well-confining. Whether past or present, all other prisons required the confinement of weak stone and breakable metal, of by-passable rules and flawed legal systems. Even Nemesis, the Crystal Kingdom's feared prison planet, was both weak and escapable, as Diamando and his ilk proved once before._

_No, not laws nor bars nor walls nor even the ice cold of space could imprison a man as well as his own mind._

_Punishments are temporary; guilt is eternal._

_Eight men are about to discover that one principle better than anyone. _

* * *

Jadeite was dreaming.

Strange how one automatically assumes that, since the word 'nightmare' wasn't used, then the 'dream' in question must have been automatically pleasant.

_**Look at the mighty Jadeite; the Master of Minds, the man who it is said was like the flowing stream of water that connected the entire Earth, a mountain on the mental planes. Now you're just a tired fool who can barely stretch his mind for a couple of miles. Pathetic!**_

It was a scorning, jeering voice that echoed in Jadeite's 'ears'. He looked around, but all he could see was pitch blackness.

"Who are you?!" He cried out, trying to sound intimidating even as fear was being chiseled onto his face.

_**You can't even identify me? Really Jadeite, I'm insulted, even though I really have no desire to talk to you. However, I don't want you to later give me any grief about 'abandoning you' or some such nonsense that you mortals constantly come up with.**_

"'Abandon me?' What are you talking about? Who _are _you?" Jadeite asked again, as he began to walk towards what he thought was the true direction of the voice. A disappointed and exhausted sigh was his answer.

_**Huh. Your memory is even worse then I thought it was. Well, I suppose being under the servitude of that Daughter of Chaos, having an amateur who didn't know what she was doing perform patch-work with your head and THEN being placed inside a stone doesn't really do much for the noggin, does it? Then again, neither does getting knocked out by a punk using a parlor trick. Really, even with your decrease of skills, you should have seen EXACTLY what happened, so don't look to me for answers on THAT note, Jadeite. However, I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on you; even your old flame can't figure it out, and unlike you she spent her years increasing her strength, improving herself. Now THERE'S someone who makes the most of what she gets, a true guardian. To paraphrase the kitty-cat, 'how come the other planets hogged up all the GOOD candidates and WE get all the rejects?!' Honestly, what she saw in you I'll never know…**_

"I'm….unconscious?" Jadeite asked dumbly. The large voice boomed a 'gawph' in response.

_**You've GOT to be kidding me. You don't even know you're unconscious? This is beyond sad, Jadeite. No wonder Mamoru only resurrected you to use you as a scapegoat for the oncoming disaster. **_

Jadeite bristled up at that, "I'm NO man's scapegoat! And Endymion would never do that to me, to any of us!"

_**Oh he wouldn't, would he? Then he just resurrected you at of the goodness of his heart NOW of all times because…he wanted to grab a pint of alcohol and reminisce with the four of you for old times' sake? You'd think that even after the incident with the giant green column? Besides, I thought that he wasn't Endymion; I thought he was just, 'his recycled soul with a few memories of a specific past-life awakened to correct the Moon's mistakes and rule a monarchy without making a total fool of himself.' Let me tell you, 'OUCH'.**_

Jadeite turned away, fear now replaced with shame as he fumbled to answer the voice.

"That was…I just said that to…"

_**You just wanted to get some answers, wanted to make yourself angry at him, and wanted to make him angry with you. I suppose it IS easier to deal with someone who hates you; after all, even if you are the guilty party—which, by the by, you are—you can simply return the hate with more hate. Rage makes the world go round, after all. What an incredible display of logic on your part, Jadeite. A master stroke truly worthy of the First and Last of the Shitennou…and of course, by 'Last,' I mean 'Dead last'.**_

_Alright, that's it._

Jadeite had enough verbal sparring, and he was getting more then a little tired of these accusations against his abilities and his character being hurled at him.

'_**Verbal sparring?' Don't flatter yourself, Jadeite; 'verbal sparring' indicates that two or more individuals are engaged in witty and/or insulting banter, whereas you have yet to string together more then three complete sentences. Three complete sentences that lack anything in the way of wit, at that.**_

"You can read my mind?!"

_**Congratulations; that makes four sentences, but we're still holding out for the wit. Of COURSE I can read your mind; we are IN your mind, fool!! Even if we weren't, I'm a god, so saying I can read your mind is like saying 'hey, the sky's blue when it's day time.'**_

"A 'god'… Look, I'm getting tired of playing 'mystery voice' inside my head, so tell me who you are and WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!!! **SHOW YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!!**"

_**Gasp, was that a bit of wit I detected? Even if it was, I'm starting to get a little angry that you still don't know who I am; how many hints to I have to drop in order for you to figure it out? As for mistaking my concern with your well-being for cowardice, this is simply my way of making sure you can at least wake up pleasantly, but you were never one for comfort, were you Jadeite? Always did have to make yourself miserable so you could play the emo-loner guy, because you always did enjoy the attention you received from playing up the whole 'mystery' angle the role came with. You wish to see me, Avatar? Very well…**_

Suddenly, the Jadeite felt as if the darkness was beginning to shrink. A shifting of shadows he sensed rather then saw was forming directly ahead of him, and it began to take the color of blue.

_**Be warned, Avatar. In the past you were far stronger even as a brat than you are now, and when I showed myself to you then you felt sickly for days. I can't predict what a weakling like you have become will go through!! **_

The now completely blue column became a raging tornado, forcing Jadeite to avert his eyes. When he was finally able to look back up, he saw to red eyes staring back at him.

And then he heard it.

The cry of the mountains, the rage of the volcanoes, the songs of the plants, the loneliness of the islands, the pride of the continents; they all streamed from this red-eyed mass. He heard them all, screaming in his mind, threatening to overwhelm him, ripping at his conscience to strip him of his individuality and make him yet another voice in their melody-less chorus.

Then the blue tornado took shape, and realization began to creep into Jadeite's features as he finally recognized the now-clearly serpentine figure.

"Seriyuu…"

* * *

**Crystal Palace: Infirmary**

A groan from Jadeite was the only change in his disposition since Mamoru brought him to the medical ward. He remained silent and observing of his Shitennou, while his wife was off talking with Ami, who was standing over Rei's own still form.

"Ami, how are they?"

"Good and bad; and by that I mean, Rei's good, Jadeite's bad," Ami replied.

"Whatever happened at that pentagram, all that it gave Rei was a nasty headache; our monitors detected nothing was implanted into her head, and she didn't stretch her mind too far away. She should wake up in a couple hours, the end of the day at most. I'm not worried about her in the least. As for….Jadeite…though…"

Usagi had to give Ami credit; with barely a stumble, she was treating one of four men she most likely would rather see at the bottom of the ocean like he was just any other patient that required the attention of Crystal Tokyo's foremost medical expert.

"He suffered a severe concussion when he hit his head against the throne room's walls. In addition to having pretty much the exact opposite of a 'soft landing,' he 'traveled' far beyond what he's currently capable of. I thought I told you both," Ami went on, her voice and expression suddenly becoming that of a stern teacher, "that NONE of them were to over-stress themselves with their unique abilities; the bodies simply can't handle it."

Here Usagi grinned a little sheepishly, "Err, things got a little...heated…before we could tell them, and then the big pentagram thingy…well you know how it goes…"

"I'm sure I do," Ami replied with a dry smile. Then her expression grew more solemn.

"In all truth, if Mamoru hadn't brought him here immediately, and you hadn't healed him on the way, then I doubt Jadeite would have survived, or if he did, it would have been as a vegetable. Also, something else concerns me to."

Usagi, too, dropped her grin as she drew closer to Ami, "What is it?"

"When we tried to scan Jadeite to see if anything was implanted in him, something…blocked…our scanners. We couldn't see if his brain was tampered with. Given the circumstances and…well, _who _it is, you can understand that this raises more then a little concern from me."

"Me as well," Usagi answered.

"Then, would you scan him, my lady, or have Rei do so when she recovers…"

"Absolutely not," Usagi firmly interrupted.

"But, my Lady…"

"Believe me, Ami; I know exactly why you are concerned and what you would have me do, or at least command to have done. It in fact would seem prudent, but…"

Usagi looked at Mamoru, who stood over Jadeite's bed, watching the invalid twist and turn while captive in the land of dreams.

"Mamoru trusts Jadeite, trusts them all, instinctually, implicitly, without question, just like I trust the eight of you. He can not conceive that they would ever do anything against him or his own, at least not willingly. Mamoru has rarely been wrong in the past, so if he trusts them, then I will do no less, and trust Jadeite as well."

"Even if you say that, there is no question that he once served the Enemy," Ami coolly countered, trying desperately to keep the conversation going so as to increase her chances of convincing the Queen.

"Yet we do not know that he did so willingly…I do not think it is possible for anyone to willingly serve any off-shoot of Chaos."

"Beryl did," Ami muttered darkly, her memories of both the past and a past life more then enough to fuel her rage towards that first opponent of the Senshi.

"Sometimes I wonder…" Usagi murmured, more then half to herself.

Ami shook her own head; there was no point in wondering about that now, and it was far more practical to turn their attention back to the present; plenty of problems of the 'now' to deal with.

"Even if that is true, if anything it helps my point; there may be pathways into his mind that this new enemy could use to gain access to his thoughts, and maybe will."

"Ami, that's assuming that this new enemy has anything to do with the past…" Usagi trailed off; in all likelihood, this is exactly what Pluto had warned them about, so maybe there was more credit to Ami's musings then even she realized.

"Evil can always sense taints," Ami answered bitterly, not flinching at the quick glare that was turned on her.

In truth, she was actually a little surprised at herself that she responded thus; that was more of Rei's or Makoto's department.

_Okay, so I'm a little bitter. Don't I have a right to be?_

As if the fates had conspired to answer her, the infirmary doors opened, and Zoisite stepped in.

Her response left both her and her Queen wide-eyed in shock.

"Oh, shit."

* * *

When he entered the infirmary, Zoisite didn't exactly know what he wanted to accomplish; yes, he wanted to find out about Jadeite's condition, but how would entering the infirmary get answers to that? He could just as easily wait outside with Nephrite until Endymion came out to them…

Oh wait, that's right; Nephrite. That's why he was in _here_ as opposed to out _there_.

Well, one problem solved, now on to the next one.

As he approached Endymion from behind, he grabbed a braid of hair, and began to twirl it between his fingers. Just as he was about to announce his presence, Endymion addressed him without turning his head from Jadeite.

"Nephrite causing trouble?" the lavender-clad King asked in a kindly voice.

Zoisite feigned a shocked gasp.

"How did you know, my lord? My God, you must be psychic. You must be a witch!"

"Yes, Zoisite," Endymion drawled, "I'm a witch, and I've had Congress with the Beast; in exchange for my soul, I was given a pair of ears which have divined that the heavy 'stomp, stomp, stomping' coming from outside must be Nephrite."

Bringing a closed fist to his face, Zoisite let loose a string of giggles. When he looked up and saw Jadeite in bed, he sobered up completely, and questioned his king in a serious tone.

"How is he, Endy?"

"Could be worse," Endymion answered honestly enough.

"Could be better, too, though," Zoisite finished.

They stood there in silence for a while, staring at their fallen comrade, before Zoisite broke the silence with another question.

"My King…Endy…why did you dress us up in these…"

"…Abominations?" Endymion finished tiredly.

Zoisite opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded.

"If you will my lord…these abominations. There has to be more to it then a simple warning from Sailor Pluto."

_More to it, indeed,_ Mamoru thought, _I just wish I knew how MUCH more._

_They had been sitting around the table, the King, Queen, Princess, Luna, Artemis, and all the Senshi save Michiru and Haruka, who were over-seeing the re-colonization of the planets, eating dinner alone when they could, as was their fashion. When Chibi-Usa had whisked Hotaru away and the others had all left, Setsuna remained behind with Mamoru and Usagi, having already told them that she needed to discuss something with them._

"_Well, Setsuna," Mamoru said, "You have our undivided attention, what is it that you wanted." _

"_My lord and lady, I have a warning…"_

"…_Wait, wait, wait, Setsuna," Mamoru interrupted, "Is this going to be another one of those cryptic warnings of yours that's so stereotypically vague and riddle-filled that we will have no idea what you are saying, leaving us at a complete loss until the thing you warned us about happens and has the rest of us going, 'Oh _that's _what she meant; well, wouldn't _that _have been nice to know before hand.'?"_

_Setsuna said nothing, and her expression never changed, but Usagi noticed a slight twitch in her eyebrows._

"_Because if that's the case, maybe it would be better if you didn't tell us anything and let us be surprised; overall I think it would save us a lot of…"_

_PHAWP!!_

_Mamoru glanced down at his right cheek as much as he was able, seeing a bit of raspberry chocolate ice-cream dribbling down his chin. He glared across the table at Setsuna, who was daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin. _

_For her part, Usagi laughed behind her hand._

_Sighing in defeat, Mamoru went on for Setsuna to continue._

"_It concerns specters from the past, chiefly, the Shitennou."_

_Mamoru immediately sat up in his seat and Usagi turned her full attention to the guardian of Time. "What about them?"_

"_An enemy is coming, both new and old. There will be multiple threats that spring forth from this one, and how you handle the first will determine the outcome of the rest, assuming you beat it."_

"_What does this have to do with Mamoru's guardians?" Usagi pressed._

"_They are integral in this threat, and if you want my advice, then you will begin plans to resurrect them immediately."_

_That stunned the monarchs into a temporary silence._

"_Setsuna, their bodies were either destroyed or at least faded into those stones long ago; and least we forget, they've been dead for centuries. There's no known way to do it, even with the Silver and Golden Crystals," Usagi responded._

"_Even if we _could_ find a way to bypass those problems," Endymion went on, "They don't seem to be very interested in resurrection, and even less interested in the past. Believe me, I know, I've talked to them about it."_

"_I am aware of the situation, however, the best way to meet this threat is to meet them with the Shitennou, and having them constantly reminded about the past; they need to be made aware, and the need to REMEMBER, or our chance of meeting this threat will be slim; this enemy will not move openly against us, or even in semi-secrecy as they have tried in the past; what has been revealed to me is that they will come at us sideways, and try and hit us where we are most vulnerable."_

_Taking this information in, Mamoru slunk back into his chair. "How would we 'constantly remind them of the past?'"_

"_If it were up to me," said Setsuna, taking up a bag that she had brought with her, "I'd make them—for the time being—wear these."_

_Then she held aloft a certain lavender-grey uniform._

_Mamoru and Usagi stared at it from across the table, before turning to Setsuna. "You are one cruel woman."_

"_Whatever the circumstances—even I don't know exactly what happened—they broke the hearts of those I consider to be sisters, so forgive me if I wish to take whatever potshots at them I can," Setsuna answered sweetly._

_Packing her stuff away, she got up, bowed and turned to leave. At the door, she called back to Mamoru, her voice laden with silent laughter._

"_My King…you still have ice cream on your face."_

_And then she left._

_Usagi laughed again as Mamoru tried to fumble for a napkin and hide his embarrassment. She then grabbed his hand and gave him a feral grin; they'd been trying for a while now, and she was willing to use any excuse._

"_Leave it," she said seductively in his ear, "I'll get it off…"_

_Oohhh yes…NO, n-n-n-n-no, bad Mamoru, BAD!!! You're supposed to be giving Zoisite an answer, not thinking erotic thoughts about your wife!!!_

Mamoru was right to be concerned; Zoisite began to think that he wouldn't receive an answer any time soon and sighed. Misinterpreting the silence as uncomfortable for Endymion, Zoisite struggled to find a way to fill it.

"So…errr…how's Jadeite again?"

Somewhat irritated at his own wondering mind, Endymion replied somewhat curtly.

"You've already asked that, Zoisite, and to be frank, Ami knows more then I do at this point. If you wish to know more as well, then you should ask her."

"Good idea," Zoisite said cheerfully at the prospect of being further educated on his friend's condition, and practically skipped over to Serenity and Ami.

It was then that Mamoru realized _exactly_ what he said.

Turning to stop Zoisite, he turned his head away and slapped his hand across his face when he saw that he was almost on top of them.

_This is _NOT _going to be pretty._

* * *

When she saw Zoisite walk towards them, Ami mentally widened her eyes in alarm, and desperately chanted in her head a mantra, as if that would somehow stave off the inevitable.

_Please don't let him talk to me please don't let him talk to me please don't let him talk to me…_

"Ami?"

…_shit._

Chiding herself for uttering the second curse of the day, Ami just sighed and looked up at Zoisite, while Usagi graciously stepped aside after receiving a courteous bow from Zoisite.

"How can I help you…Zoisite?"

To say that Zoisite was taken aback by the cold tone that he received would be an understatement; while his memory from back to the Golden Kingdom was as fragmented as anyone's, he could only remember her addressing him in that manner a very few select times; when they were strangers.

_Is that what I am to her now…a stranger? No, I can not, WILL not believe that._

"Well," He recovered with closed eyes and a grin, right hand placed on the back of the head, "I was wondering if you could tell me about Jadeite."

Ami clenched her teeth and counted to ten. _At least he is still irritating for all the wrong reasons._

"He'll most likely be out for a couple hours, and it was touch and go for a while, but he'll probably make a full recovery, depending on how that bump on his head heals. If you'll pardon me, I must go see Hotaru, as she's been taking care of patients in the other wing by herself; excuse me, Zoisite."

* * *

Nephrite didn't stop pacing back and forth before doors of the infirmary, not when Kunzite left after asserting that his presence there would accomplish nothing, not when he blocked Zoisite from laying a hand on his shoulder, not when Zoisite turned and walked into the medical wing.

He did, however, halt when Ami walked briskly out, and Zoisite soon followed behind her. Nephrite folded his arms and stood of to the side, shaking his head and deciding that this was something that Zoisite needed to learn for himself, and he'd best learn it now while it was still early enough in the re-introduction.

_Wake up and smell the morning air kid, you heard Endy; the Senshi are our enemies and jail wardens. They are not allies, and certainly not our love interests, so stop wasting your time. It doesn't matter what happened in the past or how many fairy tales you've read, reality will ALWAYS be too much of a bitch for a happy ending._

"Ami…" Zoisite began, but the woman in question quickly cut him off.

"Zoisite, I would thank you to address me as Dr. Mizuno, Sailor Mercury, or if you absolutely must, Lady Mercury, and not to be so familiar. The only reason I'm addressing you as 'Zoisite' is because you have no other title or honorific to go with it, otherwise I would use that instead. I apologize for my abruptness, but I really must be going."

She never even turned around to look at him, merely stopped, said a few words, and walked on.

_Ouch; Ice Queen indeed._

Nephrite saw each word slice into Zoisite like a dull knife. The bottom of his eyes began to water, and when she finally walked off, he was silently crying.

"Ami…" he whispered under his breath.

Nephrite, for his part, kept silent; much as he hated seeing Zoisite in pain, he hated comforting people more, and he still thought this was something Zoisite needed to do for himself.

Zoisite took a deep breath, and walked out into the hallway.

He walked in the opposite direction Ami went.

Nephrite nodded his head. Zoi would be alright; he was Shitennou, after all.

As he turned around, he looked through the glass at Jadeite's prone body. He gritted his teeth and growled at an unseen enemy, his fingers desperately trying to grip smooth glass.

_They attacked US. Those jerks DARED to attack US. How dare they?!_

So caught up in his own musings, he didn't notice that he had company until she made herself known.

"I know you were never too bright, Nephrite, but it DOES say pretty clearly 'Don't touch the glass.'"

Nephrite sighed. He did not need this.

He turned around and saw Makoto.

_I REALLY don't need this._

"Endy said that you all would be spying on us. Didn't think you'd come and do it yourself," Nephrite sneered back at Makoto.

In response, the Senshi of Nature just scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Nephrite; keeping tabs on you is not a high priority of mine or even a priority at all. I have much better things to do with my time then confirm what I already know; that you are Dark Kingdom scum. And that's King Endymion to you." Makoto added.

Sucking in his breath, he continued to return the woman's glare full on.

"Well, well, it seems that during my time in limbo, you seemed to have forgotten all those old insecurities of yours and grown a backbone. Or have you just gotten better at hiding it?"

He turned his back on her, glancing yet again at his fallen comrade and the figure standing over him.

"How I address my lord, little Senshi, has never been and never will be your concern."

There was anger in this expression, but Makoto was perceptive enough to note that it was not directed towards her.

"What are you planning on doing, Nephrite?"

Nephrite turned back towards Makoto. "Whatever do you mean, Lady Jupiter?" He asked with an infuriatingly cocky look about him, his tone full of mock politeness.

Makoto ignored the bait and pushed on. "I recognize that look, that's the, 'My macho-manly pride has been tarnished and I must avenge its shame' look. What are you planning on doing, stroll directly to Tokyo Tower, politely knock on the door, and nicely ask for a fight?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Nephrite scoffed, walking past her, only to pause at the crosswalk and smirk over his shoulder.

"I'm going to _march_ down to Tokyo Tower, _bang_ on the door, and punch whoever answers in the face. See ya," he finished with a casual wave.

Makoto simply clenched her fists and watched him walk off.

_Fine, go and get yourself killed, you cretin, and good riddance._

She turned back to the medical room, where she saw Usagi standing over Rei.

Then she saw Mamoru standing over Jadeite.

She repeatedly glanced to where Nephrite disappeared back to Mamoru, before closing her eyes and stamping her foot.

"DAMNIT!!"

* * *

As Zoisite walked down the hallway, he was deep in thought, Ami's words constantly echoing in his mind.

_She won't have anything to do with me. I knew that restarting a relationship with her would probably be inadvisable, but I thought we could at least still be friends._

That some wounds went too deep to heal, that there were some hurts there was just no making up for and required the selfless forgiveness of the other party, was an almost foreign concept to Zoisite.

_I need to talk to someone; Jadeite and Mamoru are not available, Nephrite probably wouldn't be much help even if I was sure he'd answer, and I have no idea where Kunzite is._

That left a very disheartening zero number of people Zoisite could talk to about this.

_No, not just Ami, this whole situation; at least when I was _there_, I could brush it all off, saying 'look, I am being punished for it, what more do you want?' But now that I have a second chance with not even a reincarnation to separate me from it…I can no longer say that._

So caught up in his musings that he didn't notice when he bumped into the dark haired woman until he heard her fall onto the floor.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," Zoisite muttered as he offered his hand to her, "I'm such a fool, I should have watched where I was going…"

"It's alright," the woman waived off, "This does happen a depressingly large amount of the time here, though usually I'm not the victim."

"My sympathies," Zoisite said with a smile. Then he looked at the woman in questioning confusion; specifically, he took in the crescent moon on her forehead.

"Do I…know you?" he asked.

The woman smiled cryptically. "I can honestly say that this is the first time we've met in your life."

"Ah! I see, for a minute…" _Hey, wait just a second!_

"So," the woman went on, "What is your name?"

Zoisite smiled sadly. "The hesitation in your voice says you already know the answer to that."

The woman simply looked him up and down before replying.

"Well, I thought you were one of them, but you don't have three tails, four eyes or breathe fire, so I assumed I was wrong."

"Rumors do get around fast…" Zoisite smiled, masking the hurt at his suspicions on how those rumors may have started.

_Wait a second._

"Say that last part again?" Zoisite said, a serious, questioning look replacing the false humor.

Somewhat taken aback, the woman complied. "Three tails, four eyes, breathe fire…"

_Fire! Fire!! Oh Zoisite, you stupid, clever little twit!_

"There's an old Martian Fire Temple, isn't there?" He asked with new enthusiasm.

"Why, yes, it's at the Celestial Gardens; you continue down this hallway, take your third left from here, and go into the room that smells like a green house; you can't possibly miss it."

Zoisite bolted off like a cartoon character, before returning and giving the woman a swift, innocent peck on the cheek.

"Thank you," and then he was off again.

The woman in question merely brought her hand up to her face and looked at the retreating figure sadly.

_You were always the least contemptible of the lot, Zoisite, and the sweetest. What could have possibly made you turn?_

With a sigh, Luna turned around and continued on.

* * *

Zoisite, on the other hand, was now filled with new hope.

_Why didn't you think of this earlier? When Kunzite or any of the others was never around, you could always turn to HER._

Slipping into the gardens, he shocked the mostly female observers as he bounded up the stairs. Almost forgetting to remove his boots, he bounded into the temple, whose priestess and few priests were two huffs short of being offended.

The Chief Assistant Priestess was the one who approached the interloper.

"Can I help you, young man?"

It was then Zoisite realized he _might_ have been too forward.

Slightly daunted, Zoisite bowed at the waist and plunged forward anyway.

"I...uh…am making this request fully aware of how unreasonable it might sound. I would ask for a moment to pray before the Sacred Fire."

The intakes of breath were all Zoisite needed to realize that he probably committed a sacrilege of great proportions. Two formerly unnoticed ravens began to caw at him angrily.

"This is not the time for public prayer, and the Sacred Fire is off limits to anyone save the Head Priestess, her Chief Assistants, and the Fire Keepers," the elderly woman began sternly.

Zoisite closed his eyes in defeat yet again. _Blocked from doing even this, then._

"…Is what I am supposed to say, however, it's fairly obvious you are in need of some guidance. I couldn't call myself a true priestess if I didn't offer it to you," she finished kindly, to the shock of several on lookers.

Zoisite brightened up at those words, a disbelieving smile donning his face as he looked up.

"Right this way, young man," the 'elder' woman motioned with a chuckle.

As they walked down the wooden hallway, she initiated conversation. "We don't often get people asking to pray before the Sacred Fire. Are you perchance a follower of Shinto?"

"No; I'm from the Greek-Orthodox sect of Christianity. However, I believe that my…guardian angel has an affinity with fire. I've done things that might have driven her off, so hopefully, I can corner her in a sacred flame where she can not escape my cries for mercy," he finished with a nervous chuckle.

The old woman returned it in kind. "I see. Well, I hope that you do get a chance to talk this guardian angel of yours, but don't let this guilt of yours cloud your ears so; she might be answering you, and you just can't hear her."

With that, she motioned ahead and turned.

Zoisite took a deep breath and walked forwards. Eventually, he came upon a great fire, one that seemed to burn bright without damaging the logs. Getting on his knees and folding his hands, Zoisite lowered his head.

_Great Phoenix…Suzaku, please hear my prayer…_

* * *

Kunzite followed the others to the medical ward, but when he saw that his presence would achieve nothing, not even as a comfort to others, he silently withdrew. Wandering aimlessly about the palace, he began to plan a course of action.

_Jadeite will be withdrawn after this and most likely brood. It's probably a good thing that this new enemy is about; otherwise Jadeite might try and leave the palace. I need to get him and the others back into fighting shape, myself as well. We need to strengthen our bodies and powers, then try and re-establish connection with the Beasts._

It was no accident that they were called Shitennou; the very first were all men of Eastern origin, and they claimed their strength, intelligence, and natural abilities were all greatly enhanced by the Four Great Beasts. Kunzite had learned from experience that what they said was partially true. If the Senshi had their planets, then the Shitennou had their own spiritual guardians.

Each guardian, however, meant a different thing to each Shitennou.

To Jadeite, they were gods who were not quite what he thought they would be. To Zoisite, they were their own personal guardian angels to guide the Shitennou in times of need. To Nephrite, they were just a collection of Memories who had, over time, gained the power all such Memories do. To Kunzite, whatever else they might have been, they were simply sources of power and knowledge, to help them perform their duties.

_When they came to take him from his orthodox, nomadic tribe, most of the people were in an uproar that the son of a Judge would be taken to be the avatar of some pagan god. The current Judge, however, had at least a rudimentary understanding of the Golden Kingdom; enough to come to a conclusion similar to Nephrite's about the so-called 'gods'. Having placated the people as only he could, he sent the young boy who would come to be called Kunzite off to Elysion._

_There, he would be educated about 'the truths of this world,' though to Kunzite it was simply learning what he never before needed to have learned. At the end of every year, he was allowed to visit his family and his tribe, but he gradually stopped taking the option, as it became apparent that they now considered him an 'outsider'._

_When he was deemed strong enough to stand before the great Ganbu, he was neither nervous nor eager. He simply was as he always was; ready to do the next thing that was expected of him by his betters._

_When the painful process was over and he looked up at the black, hulking figure before him, Kunzite would be less then honest if he didn't admit he was a little…disappointed._

_**Not quite what you were expecting, boy? Well, when your other choices are a tiger, a dragon, and a phoenix, I suppose that it's only natural to be a little disappointed to have, of all things, a turtle for a guardian beast. **_

"_I don't know enough about turtles to deem whether or not they are a fierce creature," Kunzite said honestly, "For all I know, the creatures who share your shape could have venom or sharp teeth, their appearance designed to fool the enemies-then again, the creatures could be exactly as they apparently look like: slow, stupid, and ugly."_

_**Technically you still haven't seen a turtle, boy. Nonetheless, I'm impressed. You look for things that might be, despite their appearance—and by the way, turtles are EXACTLY what they look like, save for the snapping turtle, but that's pretty much the only exception to the general rule—and you have yet to ask any of the usual questions about the mysteries of the universe and which religion is correct that I normally get.**_

"_Doubtless, one as ancient and powerful as you has answers to all such mysteries, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather find my own."_

_The creature laughed; it was a booming laugh filled with the power of the ocean, the chill of ice, and mystery of the darkness._

_**I was right about you, boy; you ARE unique, even among this extraordinarily unique bunch. Even now as young boys, the strength of all four of you approaches that of the first Shitennou, who till now were hailed as the strongest, and this without us to enhance your powers, or your natural ones fully matured. And you are the strongest of them, the one selected to be the leader. I foresee greatness in all of you, but you just might achieve immortality. It makes me wonder about this young prince who is close to your own age, and what great things we can expect from him.**_

"Immortality..." Kunzite mused. Realizing that he had no idea where he was, he looked around and almost laughed at the irony; he was in an armory museum, filled with the relics of ancient warriors from the past, from armor to camouflage uniforms.

Walking up to a suit of Roman armor, he drew forth the blade that at one time was wielded by those who his people first hailed as saviors and allies, and then as oppressors and jail-keepers.

"That's right," he said aloud, no one listening to him, "I did achieve immortality, Ganbu. Your expectations, however, were a bit low; we ALL achieved it; the infamy that treason grants. Strange how such a realization makes a pointed blade look inviting, no matter what your spiritual thoughts are on suicide."

He held the blade upside down, over his head with his eyes closed.

Perhaps, if it was as Endymion wished for him to say, that the Shitennou were captured, tortured, and then brainwashed, then perhaps Kunzite would never even consider it his own fault save for being too weak to resist.

However, though his memories incomplete like everyone else's, Kunzite knew at least _that_ much; he knew what _really_ happened on that black day.

Shame could not describe what he felt towards it.

_I made the only choice I could, the only option that was left to me._

He tried to make it sound like a statement of fact, but even in his own head, it sounded like a petty excuse.

* * *

**Tokyo Tower: Inside the Barrier**

"Behold my Master, and your benefactor; Metallia."

The reactions were fierce and perhaps to be expected.

Nekome immediately stood up, his bow at the ready, unsure with whether he wanted to skewer Zetsubou or Metallia first. Marionette solved the dilemma for him by athletically leaping over the table and landing behind Zetsubou, daggers produced from nowhere pressing close enough on Zetsubou's neck to draw blood. Moments later, Vlad'ar's strange blade was at Zetsubou's throat as well. Ohanzee took a fighting stance beside Nekome, whose arrow was now firmly pointed at Metallia. Ohanzee drew no weapon, but he looked prepared to fight, and was holding a strange glowing object in his hand.

**Not quite what you were expecting, boys?**

Nekome shuddered in spite of himself; his pride was relieved that he saw everyone else save Zetsubou react much the same. He could literally _feel_ this thing's hatred, its anger towards all that stood against it.

"What the hell is this, Zetsubou?" Vlad'ar demanded. "We have all gathered to unite against a common foe, and you bring their…._god_….down upon us!!"

"There's no such thing as 'god.'" Nekome sneered, more at Metallia then Vlad'ar, "Only humans, and monsters!!"

"Spiritual discussions aside," Ohanzee chimed in; his voice filled with no less venom then his compatriots, "Why should we ally with the one who is—forgive me for speaking for you on this, gentlemen—the root cause of our grievances?"

Marionette remained uncharacteristically silent, but he dug his daggers in a little further to emphasis the point, and perhaps to prompt Zetsubou to speak.

Zetsubou, for his part, simply glanced at down at the weapons threatening his life before glancing up at his master.

"'Why should you,' you ask? I ask you in return, 'how can you afford not to?'"

That significantly confused them all, causing them each to take a step back.

"What do you mean?" Vlad'ar questioned with a glare.

Zetsubou stood up and turned to face them. "You've waited centuries beyond centuries for them to be brought back to life, hoping against hope that somehow, someway, they would come again. They did, and to the disappointment of all four of you, you missed them."

"Get to the point!" Nekome growled out.

Zetsubou continued on, as if he'd never been interrupted. He walked over to the table where he was originally seated, and held his hand over it.

"Now they've been resurrected again," he went on softly, "Those that cursed you, hurt you, and in some cases, made you," four images arose like tainted water from underneath his hand, four very familiar images.

"The Shitennou, that is."

"Maybe you each have personal reasons for wishing to place all the blame for what they did at Metallia's feet. It does make for a good story, doesn't it? 'The brave Shitennou, trying to allow their master to escape,' or perhaps the less emotional, more noble 'protect the Golden Kingdom down to the last man,' or—this last one is my personal favorite—'prevent their lady loves from being assimilated into Shadow,' no offense intended Ohanzee.

"You can choose to believe any one of those fanciful tales if it makes you feel better, or you can believe that Metallia simply brought out what was always there, and gave them the opportunity they were always searching for. In your hearts, each of you knows which is true."

He paused at this point, looking around at the now-unsure expressions dawning on their faces; where once firm resolve stood, now shaky doubt had replaced.

_Now for the gamble, _he thought.

"If, however, you are unable to put aside illusions of morality and side with my master, then there are no hard feelings; you may leave, and the marks on your hands will fade. Then you all can pursue vengeance in whatever way you truly wish."

**WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ZETSUBOU!!!!!?????**

_Patience, master,_ Zetsubou responded, thanking whatever fates inspired Metallia to at least retain enough rationality to send the message mentally instead of aloud, _I am simply…calling their bluff._

**And if they call YOUR bluff?!**

_Then I shall kill them and we go on to the contingency plan, though I agree its best to use them for the intended results._

"Yes, free to pursue it as you wish, but keep in mind one thing; they are in the palace, and there, they are protected—however inadvertently—by entire armies, the dreaded Elite, and least we forget, at least four, possibly eight women who could easily mop the floor with the lot of you. And after _that_, it get's even better; a king and queen, each with enough power to reverse death itself, with whom your targets are in at least enough favor to warrant this second rebirth in the first place.

"So I suppose I should say, 'feel free to pursue your vengeance, knowing it to be a doomed course from the outset.' Without my master to counter the Silver and Golden Crystals, and without my leadership to keep the Elite, Senshi, and all others second-guessing at who the real enemy is, you will never get within breathing distance of your targets without being interrupted."

He withdrew his hand, and the images faded away.

"I suggest you take a few moments to think about it, but please decide before you leave."

He turned around and walked up to a wall; waving his hand in front of it, a large, Renaissance-style painting of a red-haired, onyx-eyed woman clutching a scepter and giving any viewers a cruel smile appeared. Holding his hands behind his back, he stared at the painting, completely ignoring the four now-dumbfounded compatriots.

They looked at each other to Zetsubou. Then, one by one, they left the room and took Zetsubou's advice.

* * *

**Tokyo Tower: Outside the Barrier**

Despite his demeanor, Nephrite rarely used the direct approach unless he was extremely confident or extremely angry. Normally, he'd sit back and let his shadow do the work for him, despite the drawback of it getting weaker the farther and longer it was completely separated from him.

In this situation, it wasn't really all that difficult to determine which Nephrite was feeling now.

As he approached the field, he looked it up and down before throwing back his head and roaring out a challenge.

"Come out, you cowards! You strike at a man and you don't follow through, but retreat?! You start a fight, than run away?! Come OUT!!"

At the cry of 'out,' his shadow began to shift. It was fading twilight, mere minutes before darkness fell on the city like a veil of black. However, there was light enough for what Nephrite had in mind.

Holding out his right hand, he spread his fingers apart and gave a shout. The shadow suddenly lunged forward, stretching itself at great speed; as it moved, rocks and dirt were being kicked up. The shadow 'smashed' into the barrier; the sudden stop kicking up a large cloud of dust.

"How's _that_," Nephrite cried gleefully, his mouth allowing a self-assured smile.

The dust settled, and the smoke disappeared, taking Nephrite's smile with it.

From his feet to the edge of the barrier, a fine cut two feet deep and only two inches long at the widest had damaged the ground.

The barrier itself displayed not even so much as a ripple.

Nephrite stared at the barrier in complete and utter disbelief, his jaw hanging open.

_Impossible; there should be a sizable hole in that thing!!_

Continuing to look at the undamaged obstruction, Nephrite's breathing became ragged, and his hand began to shake; in his mind, criticisms and disbeliefs ranging from long ago to only hours before were suddenly brought to the front of recollection.

_**Phew!! In over ten generations of pathetic Avatars, you are the most pitiful. How come Ganbu hogs up all the strong ones, Suzaku all the smart ones, Seriyuu all the subtle, crafty ones and I get all the REJECTS?!**_

"Shut up, you stupid tiger…"

_I didn't see him move, I didn't even see him stand up. I blinked, and he was gone. That's impossible._

"…that's because he has the Golden Crystal; it's not because I'm…."

_Weak; I was too weak to do anything. Why am I so weak?_

"Shut up…"

Nephrite clenched and grinded his teeth together; his shaking hand now became a shaking fist.

"SHUT UP!"

He took one step forward; two, then three, then four. The time between each step shortened, until finally he was in a full-fledged run towards the magic shield surrounding Tokyo Tower.

"**SHUT UP!!!!"**

With this final cry towards his guilt, his shame, he wildly struck at the barrier; each blow landing in a different place, each with a different amount of force behind it.

"**SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!!!** Do you think we're WEAK!?! That we aren't WORTH another blow!!!?!! Is _that_ why you struck at my friend and then casually walked here, because you thought any way the Shitennou retaliated was beneath your notice!?!! **IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK!!!?!"**

He continued to rail, he continued to strike; in the end, it didn't matter.

No one came out to answer him.

* * *

**Tokyo Tower: Inside the Barrier**

Ohanzee walked out, deep in thought, his eyes downcast towards his feet.

He leaned against one of the malformed pillars that so vaguely resembled the confiscated construct that he and his new associates now occupied. He closed his eyes and reflected.

Among the four of them, Ohanzee had perhaps the greatest hurdle to leap in order to ally himself with Metallia; there were so many parallels between the Lakota religion and the rich history of the Golden, Silver and Crystal Kingdoms that Ohanzee long since considered and told of them as interchangeable.

_Can I really do it? Can I ally with the former patron of that two-faced seductress, Anog Ite, and go up against Wi and the Moon? I already know I will fail if I go up against them alone; what can man do against the incarnation of gods? That would require craftiness on par with Iktomi. Perhaps taking the part of Metallia _would _be something Iktomi would do… no, even he would hesitate before allying himself with that…that thing._

_I can tell, just by looking at It; that thing parading itself as a woman would destroy this 'Wakan' kingdom in a vein effort to sate her insatiable rage. Also, that Zetsubou…_

_Ever since I first met him, I thought there was something wrong with him; a churning of something ominous, something biding its time, waiting to spring out. I finally figured it out, finally put together what it is I fear about him._

_He's like Iya, the Lord of the Storms. _

_He'll consume humans everywhere, and herald a storm through which this 'center' is the only place of reprieve. He'll bring fire and thunder and death, and he will do it without any evil or malevolent intent; it is merely his duty, one that only he can perform and thus does. The most dangerous type of man, a 'true believer' as some might say._

_The boy said it himself; by helping me they further their plans, thus by extension by allying with them, I am bringing about whatever apocalyptic doom they have in store for this place._

_That settles it, then; I cannot…_

_**You cannot what?!**_

Ohanzee instinctually looked up, though he knew he wouldn't see anyone.

_**You promised us you'd take responsibility, shadow-caster!! You promised us revenge against HIM!!!!**_

It was one thought, yet it was spoken with the wailing of many voices; men, women and children were all crying out to him, discernable only because they spoke with the same words, at the same time.

_**How many of us faded from existence in order to prolong your existence, your vitality? You think taking the Neo-Queen's gift of prolonged life would placate us because of an eased burden!? You've stalled long enough, citing that HE was alive yet not of this world, and thus we could do nothing. Well now he's alive, he's of this world, so live up to your promise, Shaman!! We demand that you keep your word!!**_

"So you would sacrifice an entire city, a bastion of hope and light, just to kill one corrupt soul?" Ohanzee asked, disgust and disappointment leaking out of his voice.

_**Don't you dare patronize US, priest!!! How long have we suffered, lingered, till your own guilt drew us to you? Besides, all of us, even you, know what will happen if he's allowed to remain; he'll cause the destruction of this city from within, and it will slowly decay and cripple this 'paradise.' Even if it didn't, we wouldn't care. We want him dead!! Do you hear us? We want him to suffer, and then WE WANT HIM TO DIE!!!**_

Ohanzee went reeling from the hatred they gave off, and clutched at his head. Fortunately, this was the max of their abilities to launch an attack.

And then he saw him.

Saw their target, pounding away at the shield as if brute physical force could possibly bring the surrounding field down.

He gave a grim smile at the nostalgia the man's behavior brought, and then turned back to the voices.

"It looks like Skan, Creator of Life, has conspired to make our argument a completely moot point, provided of course, that you are willing to only give out a more diminutive amount of 'suffering' then your imaginations have provided for."

_**We are…..**_

* * *

Marionette had managed to leap about on to one of the higher beams on their mockery of Tokyo Tower, seeking seclusion like the others, as if answers that he had no knowledge of would somehow spring forth from solitary surroundings.

He reached into one of his many pockets, and took out a slinky; playing with it, shifting the rings from one hand to the other, Marionette began to do some thinking of his own.

_He was on a stage, using slow, deliberate movements to tell his story. The audience laughed and applauded whenever appropriate, for this was a time and culture when subtleties were appreciated, and overt displays of ability at inappropriate times seen as wasteful and boastful._

_When he was done, no one threw coins or flowers at him; they merely politely applauded again, and bowed their heads at the masterful performance; another subtlety, one that dealt with respect. He returned their bow and turned away, going behind the curtain. There was a woman there. She simply smiled and nodded her head at him. He repeated her gesture._

_They left together, taking a small carriage towards their apartments. Paying their driver his fair, and went inside the apartments. Two boys, neither even so much as ten, rushed toward them, stopped fifteen feet short, and bowed. The obvious couple bowed back._

_Formalities observed, the children rushed into the waiting arms of their parents._

_The evening meal was eaten in ritual silence, the standard fair of the day; rice, fish, water and wine. _

_He looked at all three; sons and wife. He closed his eyes and smiled. Life was good._

_Strange, though. It was the middle of fall, and shouldn't be so hot. What was that odd burning smell…?_

_His eyes widened in realization._

_He saw all three, naked, slowly backing away from him, though their feet never touched the floor. There was a fire in their flesh, and tears running down their eyes, though they never cried out. Gasping he tried to get up and go after them, only to be brought back down to his knees. He looked around in horror, seeing that he was restrained with some kind of rope, and lacked anything in the way of clothing. _

_He saw them being burned as they continued to get farther and farther away from him, eventually crumbling to ash._

"_ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"_

_His scream contained nothing but anguish, and yet was a poor vessel to pour out his grief. _

"_Why, why did you do this," he begged an unseen spectator._

"_**Because I can**__…"_

**SNAP!**

Marionette looked down at his slinky. Through the eye-holes of his mask, he observed that he snapped it in half. The sudden disjointing had cut a deep gash into both of his gloved hands.

He sighed, though not because of the pain, and continued to think even as he produced a few ribbons and wrapped them around his wounds.

_There is little point in wondering about who wrote the script; everyone thinks that the author is an ass-hole, and the director an even bigger one. Even so, this is a part that you've wanted to play for a very, very long time; and as the saying goes…_

Marionette leaped off the ledge, plummeting to the ground below.

_The show must go on._

* * *

Vlad'ar walked out part of the way with Ohanzee, than when they stepped out into the open, they each went their separate ways.

When he was finally alone, he removed his right glove and looked at his hand. His eyes, though, weren't for the pentagram marking that suddenly came alive so close to the barrier. They were for the blue skin, the visible muscles and ligaments, the cables that carried the vital fluids throughout his body with far greater efficiency then either veins or arteries. His eyes were for the gold diamonds that had been melded into his flesh, the small jewel-like circlets they encased.

As always, staring at his odd body filled his mind with both anger and resentment.

Vlad'ar had a unique trait when it came to his pain. For the other three, theirs was only on their hearts and minds. Vlad'ar carried that pain on his body as well.

"So, it comes full circle," he said aloud, "I have been given the opportunity to join the same devil you did, so I can wreck your life just like you wrecked mine. I guess now, all I can say is, 'is my hate strong enough to willingly take the devil's fruit?' What would you have done in my position, teacher?"

_He was on a table, strapped spread-eagle and naked. How long had it been? That's right, three days. _

_Three days?_

_It seemed more like three ages. _

_He whimpered as he heard the door open, his will having been broken in the afternoon of the second day._

"_It's very frustrating," the feared yet child-like voice huffed, "I've been told that by the Lady Beryl that I must get results in soon, otherwise I shall have concede and make more of those—even I must confess, whatever my preferences—brilliant hybrids of yours._

"_It's very frustrating," he said again as he made a cut into Vlad'ar's flesh, the whimpering hurt ignored with the objectivity of a dedicated scientist, "Because I see that my lady is suffering from the same regrettable yet understandable lack of vision that you had; too awed by the immediate beauty of your creations. Really, there's no appreciation for…subtlety, in this outfit."_

"_True, your hybrids are most beautiful; crossing the essence of animals and humans to create super-beings, they would make awesome foot soldiers. However, there is more potential in an average human body then we have yet to realize; the abilities one could have with my upgrades may be less FLASHY, but in the end it will be more USEFUL, as you will help me demonstrate._

"_You see," he went on, as he began to remove a vein, "as I have tried to tell you time and time again, those hybrids, powerful as they are, can only fight like an instinctual animal; they can only fight using tooth and claw. If they served as foot soldiers for the invasion of the Moon, they'd be able to cause damage…and little else. They couldn't occupy areas, hold off enemy advances, respond to new threats, and unless myself or my compatriots were looking over their shoulders the entire time, then they'd go off and do whatever their baser instincts demanded of them._

"_An empowered human, however, won't fall prey to that. Their attacks may be '_less-powerful'_ but in exchange they'll be more__** '**_well-placed'._ Learn this lesson well, my young student; a weaker, yet well-placed blow can cause more damage then a stronger, direct blow._

"_But still," the voice now took a worried tone, one of fear; not fear of safety, but fear of being denied, "What if she observes but refuses to see? Her highness was never one to appreciate subtleties; merely using them as unpleasant necessities. She has too rich an appreciation for raw power, I think._

"_You'll help me, won't you Vlad'ar?"_

_A hand was laid across his cheek, and he couldn't help but feel slightly revolted as he shivered from the touch…_

Vlad'ar's eyes shut open; he never even realized that he closed them.

"Yes," he decided, "Yes I can do it. What difference does it make if the devil itself is the one offering me fruit from the Tree of Vengeance? In the end, I had made up my mind centuries ago to take it."

He stood up and placed his glove on, walking back towards the room.

"If I can stand before you with my hate, and you recognizing it as such, then that will be enough…"

* * *

Nekome didn't go very far; just outside the door. He stared hard at the floor and clenched his hands, as if trying to squeeze a resolution out of them.

His thoughts were occupied along the same lines as his fellow 'guests'; trying to reconcile allying himself with his target's own demon-god. He didn't want to follow in _that_ man's, footsteps; he'd had enough of trying to do that to last all of his life-times.

_As the younger son of a great man, it was expected that he would make some accounting of himself, no matter how small. As such, he was given everything his older twin brother was given for those eleven years they were a family, and he came up, to say the least, sorely lacking. _

_When it came to education, his brother studied circles around him. When it came to the weapon training that was started so early in a desert with harsh conditions and even harsher bandits, his brother left him quite literally in the dust. _

_When it came to grieving for their deceased parents, his brother was silently applauded for how appropriately he held in his unhappiness while still making it plain that he was sincerely paying his respects to the dead. He, on the other hand, was criticized with whispers about how much of a scene his tears made._

_And when the demon threat turned Its attention towards their large tribe, they criticized him in a louder voice with whatever time they had left for not doing what his father and brother could have done._

_Of course, that last one ended up being a mute point…_

"_Foolish brother; are you sad? Enraged? Do you desire to kill me? How useless. Even if you had the ability, your will is too weak. That is your one great sin, brother; your weakness of belief. Look around you whenever you are able; all this death, all our tribes secrets and teachings, they are gone forever because I brought the sword to these fools, all because they would not bow before a greater power among them to garner the favor of a greater power that was merely within them. _

"_But it was you, their leader, who was unable to protect them, who was unable to stop me. And why were you unable to stop me? Because all your resentful life, for whatever reason, you never entertained the notion that you just _might_ be able to catch up to me, that you just _might _surpass me._

"_They are dead because I killed them; they died because you are weak."_

**KA-BOOM!!!**

Nekome stared at the large sized hole he had created in the wall, trying to catch his breath.

_Drip, drip_

He looked at his hands and smirked; during his musings he had clenched them so hard that his fingernails had cut into his palms.

The smirk faded as he glanced over his shoulder at the awaiting chamber. Without anymore hesitation, he turned and walked in.

_Ach-bechor, I shall take the same road you did, but I won't follow your path, the path of giving glory to that thing; when you have been utterly destroyed, 'she' and her pet will soon follow you after._

* * *

**Tokyo Tower: Outside the Barrier**

Nephrite had finally grown tired of hitting on the barrier. Slightly winded, he placed a hand against it as he bent over, eyes closed, panting at his shame.

In this highly vulnerable position, Nephrite had no idea that he was now being stalked…

* * *

Ohanzee crept silently towards Nephrite, though it was more out of force of habit than actual effect; for although he could clearly see and hear Nephrite through the slight green tint, Ohanzee knew that Nephrite could neither see nor hear nor even sense him.

He was getting closer now; oh so close. Ohanzee decided he'd get a foot out—more then enough for what he had intended—and then use his particular talents to teleport behind Nephrite. It would shock him enough to stifle whatever resistance he might give, and then he'd be at Ohanzee's mercy…

* * *

Nephrite continued to breathe deeply when suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Rocketing back to an upright position he whirled around to face whatever threat had sent his hair on end.

To say he was shocked at the interloper would be a gross understatement.

"Y-you…" he stuttered stupidly.

"Me," the intruder replied. "So, do you feel big enough of an idiot to stop yet, or shall I come back later when you're finished?"

* * *

Ohanzee froze right at the edge as he looked at this newly arrival, only to groan and instinctively slink back.

Sailor Jupiter had come.

_Impossible; why is _she_ here!?_

Staring at the two figures beginning to exchange heated words, Ohanzee turned his head as Zetsubou's prophetic warning came back to him.

"…_you will never get within breathing distance of your targets without being interrupted."_

With a regretful sigh, Ohanzee turned around, and walked back to the tower.

* * *

"Why are you here?" Nephrite snarled.

Makoto, donning the garb of a Sailor Senshi, scoffed even as she kept a wary eye out for any would-be attackers.

"Just like you, Nephrite; not 'thanks for coming even if I am a self-important ass', not even an 'I'm glad you're here to save my life in case I get attacked'. No, it's 'why are you getting in my way, little girl'."

Now it was Nephrite's turn to scoff.

"'Save my life?' I have fought in more battles, participated in more wars and won more duels then you have ever heard of in _both_ life times, let alone seen, and _you _are saving _me_?"

"Why, yes," Jupiter answered as sweetly as possible, the sarcasm dripping from her every pore, "That's exactly what I mean."

Nephrite's eyes widened as he casually—and, some strategists would say, stupidly—propped his back against green barrier.

"Alright, enlighten me; how, exactly, are you saving my life?"

Sailor Jupiter frowned at this lackadaisical move on Nephrite's part. Rather then waste time arguing with him, she calmly walked over, gripped him by the arm, and before he could protest or demand what she was doing, threw the infuriating man over her shoulder.

_Wham!_

"Ow," Nephrite whimpered from his back. Rolling over, he glared up at the brunette. Hands on hips, she was noticeably standing so that her back was not to the barrier.

"Like that," she said with probably a little more smugness then the situation called for.

Nephrite, being Nephrite, was not amused in the least.

"That," he whispered dangerously, "Was not very nice."

Jupiter, for her part, was hardly intimidated, or even wary of retaliation.

"Call me in a thousand years when I might give a damn."

Getting to his feet, Nephrite decided he had more then enough of this. He made to pass Jupiter, but the sinewy woman blocked his way.

"Get out of my way, _Makoto_." His voice was once again only barely above a whisper, emphasizing her current name as though to say he wouldn't go easy with her if she wouldn't move.

"Only if you can make me," she replied back, her voice of even volume with his, and even intent to match.

Nephrite sighed and with almost insulting slowness, made to grab for her shoulder. How he found himself hunched over with the same arm twisted behind his back was a question he'd ask himself in the many years to come.

"Gah!"

Jupiter, as if to show how low her concern was, gave the arm another good twist.

"Go back to the palace, Nephrite, or you'll get a small taste of what would have happened to you if you had taken another step towards their Majesties."

Nephrite's eyes widened in shock before he smirked, understanding exactly what that meant.

"I thought you had better things to do then watch over us, Thunder Bitch."

_I didn't sense them; none of us did. A simple decline in our own skills isn't enough to explain this. Just how much stronger have they…?_

In spite of herself, or maybe because of, Jupiter blushed, turning her head away to avoid showing it.

"That…I…that situation was completely…"

_Now!!!_

As he had implied earlier, Nephrite had been involved in hundreds, perhaps thousands of fights, from the glorified ones baring the grandiose titles of wars or battles, to the downplayed ones with diminishing titles such as skirmishes and assassinations. Whatever his body, whatever the condition of his powers, nothing could ever take away that experience, and what that experience taught. Among those many lessons, always, always always _always_ take advantage of the enemy's openings, and fair-play be damned.

Hand balled into a fist, Nephrite went for an uppercut. Fully expecting to meet skin and jawbone, he was suitably surprised when he hit nothing but air, and outright shocked when an elbow was planted into his stomach.

Sinking to his knees in a coughing fit, Nephrite looked down in surprise at the sight of his own blood covering the ground; another cough revealed just where it came from.

"Do you see now, the difference in our abilities?" Jupiter asked. "This wasn't about beating you senseless—though that _was_ a fun bonus—this was about making a point; there is no longer any comparison between the Shitennou and the Senshi. We have surpassed our old limits, forced to become so much stronger to better serve our subordinates, our friends, and our leaders, so much so that our old selves would seem pathetic in comparison. But if we had to become this much stronger, how powerful were our enemies to force us thus? And if they've grown progressively stronger each time, how strong must _they _be?"

Tilting her head, Nephrite didn't need to turn his to know where she was motioning.

"Just look at Rei and Jadeite! If that isn't a good indicator of what is going to happen to you, I don't know what is. Face it Nephrite, you're too weak to deal with this threat."

Nephrite had been growing increasingly angry at Jupiter's tirade, but the 'weak' comment was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA….gurgle!"

Given how the 'fight' had gone up until now, Nephrite should have hardly been surprised that instead of his hands around her throat, Jupiter's knee sunk into his poor stomach.

With a grunt of disgust, Jupiter flicked him off, sending Nephrite on his back for the second time that night. Spinning on her heel, she made sure her back was to him before continuing on.

"I'm leaving; it's obvious that you won't listen, and the only way you're going to leave is on your own, or if I knock you out and drag you back to the palace, which is something I am emphatically not doing."

Taking a few steps forward, Jupiter stopped to give Nephrite one last parting shot.

"Endymion asked us to help you seek out redemption, but frankly that hardly appealed to any of us. Even if it was possible for a snake like you to redeem himself I can tell you right now, it won't be through fighting."

Nephrite laughed as he propped himself up on an elbow.

"Maybe you can't remember, but unlike you and yours, I wasn't a figurehead first and warrior second; I was a warrior always, who happened to have some responsibility as a leader. Fighting's all I know, all I ever needed to know."

"Then get another damn hobby," Jupiter snapped. With that, she walked off.

Nephrite watched her walk off while wiping the last of the blood from his mouth.

"I used to have one…" Nephrite bitterly retorted at her retreating figure.

Nephrite didn't know how long he sat there; all he knew was that eventually, he stood up and left.

* * *

_Mistress…_

"Go away," Rei muttered, "I want to sleep for a little longer…"

_Mistress…_

"Don't make me go, Grandpa; not today."

_YOUNG LADY, GET UP THIS MINUTE!!!_

Rei immediately bolted, finding herself in the medical wing; alone save for a single unconscious figure. Closer scrutiny gave her reason to look the other way.

"What is it, Phobos?"

_One of _them _is _here.

Rei bolted up furiously.

"Which one, and who let him in?!"

_My lady…_

"Well, we'll see just what he thinks he's doing, and then I'll…"

_All well and good, my lady; but first, you may want to put some clothes on; dignity of the High Priestess and all. You have the time; Deimos is keeping an eye on him._

Blushing at the hidden laughter in the voice, Rei, looked down to find herself dressed in a…very, _very _revealing hospital gown. Looking around, she thankfully saw neatly folded robes of her station, as well as a pair of ceremonial slippers.

Yet even through all the blushing, the hurried dressing and the irritated grunts at Phobos' laughter, Rei's eyes never left Jadeite's prone form.

She was out in five minutes; four minutes too long for Rei's taste.

* * *

The Chief Assistant Priestess, Sister Himiko, knew that there would be a lot of explaining to do if the young man hadn't finished by the time the High Priestess had recovered.

She didn't think that she would have to start thinking of epitaphs as well.

"High Priestess! Thank the gods that you are…"

"Where is he?! Who let him in here?!" She all but snarled.

Himiko was always shocked at this side of the head of the Temple. It was during moments like this that, despite her outward appearance, Rei Hino was by far the elder woman by many centuries. With that came a natural seniority about her that was…difficult to not bend to.

Yet for the sake of that lost-looking young man, try Himiko would.

"Ah, you mean that poor soul who came in a few hours ago? Pitiable man, I should think we ought to let him finish his business."

"If his 'god' or 'spirit' or whatever he was trying to talk to hasn't answered him now, it's not going to," Rei declared.

"It is against the rules for any to approach the fire in the first place, Himiko; since I can't seem to trust you to enforce the rules, I will have to do so myself."

Himiko narrowed her eyes, both at the accusation and the lack of concern in Rei's voice.

_This is beyond mere annoyance at disregard for rules; it's almost like she has a personal vendetta against the boy. Does she know him? How did she know in the first place?_

Like many, Himiko was unaware of the exact nature of Rei's 'pets', but that was neither here nor there. Himiko had resolved to help that boy, so she would buy him whatever time she could.

Besides, High Priestess she may be, older she most certainly was, but there was just something that didn't sit right with Himiko to be talked down like that by someone who looked young enough to be her daughter…

"A moment, High Priestess," Himiko called out, gently laying a hand on Rei's shoulder.

Sighing, Rei stopped and looked back. "What is it now, Himiko?"

Bowing, Himiko resumed speaking with hidden mirth.

"You are right; I apologize most humbly for my lack of regard to the rules. In the future, I shall be far more diligent in their observation."

Rei nodded. "Very good; then I shall…"

"Wait just a minute, High Priestess."

Rei was shocked that not only was she being stopped, but guided by the hand _away _from the fire and _toward _several of the attendants.

"This means," Himiko went on, "That I shall be enforcing all the rules."

Rei was confused as to what that meant until Himiko gently but firmly pushed her down, and felt two attendants grab her ankles.

"W-wait a minute," Rei cried out as she felt her slippers being removed, "T-there's time enough for this later. That man is…"

"Going nowhere," Himiko replied as she began to undress an only half-struggling Rei, "You know that this is the only way in and out. Besides," she continued as she raised one of Rei's arms with one hand and held a soapy brush in the other, "'how can someone approach the sacred fire with a pure soul if their body is covered in filth?'"

Giving Himiko a look that promised revenge in spades, all Rei could do to save face was make one, and to 'grit and bare it'. That resolve didn't stop her toes from curling in anticipation as she saw the brushes begin to descend…

* * *

_It's hopeless, _Zoisite sighed for the fifth time.

In the many hours, he had constantly asked, searched, and probed the Sacred Fire on what was becoming increasingly obvious to be the off-chance his angel was awaiting to hear his requests. There was a brief time that he thought Suzaku would answer, but then he realized it was just a young woman laughing her head off. A pretty laugh, to be sure, but Zoisite was annoyed that someone was doing so quite loudly; it _was _a temple, after all.

_You promised,_ Zoisite said in an almost petulant, child-like accusation, _you promised you'd be there if I sought you out._

Zoisite was aware of how he sounded, but he was legitimately hurt that the owner of a kindly, feminine yet powerful voice had apparently deemed him unworthy to keep promises too:

**When you find yourself in trouble, young Avatar,** **seek me out in the flames, I will always be there for you, sweet child; always.**

_I need you; I'm seeking you; why aren't you here?_

"Why are you here?"

Zoisite spun around to see a red-cheeked, teary-eyed Rei Hino, huffing and trying to look stern, succeeding only in looking like she had been put through the ringer.

"Ms. Hino, you're awake!!"

Zoisite leaped to his feet in delight, taking a few steps forward before closing his eyes and smiling.

Rei's own eyes widened in shock at how easily her current name came from Zoisite's lips.

"Oro, were you crying?"

"None of your business," Rei stammered out too quickly and too defensively.

"Sorry," Zoisite said without missing a beat. "I'm glad to see you are okay, Ms. Hino."

Rei blinked at Zoisite. _Is he…serious? But…he's…_

A sudden thought occurred to Zoisite.

"Ms. Hino, if you're awake, is Jadeite…"

Rei's eyes narrowed, and her stern expression returned.

_Whoops, _Zoisite mentally faltered.

"Why are you here, Zoisite?" Rei asked again, this time with far more authority then before.

Never one to hide anything, Zoisite straight-forwardly told her.

"I was trying to seek guidance from my…guardian angel. She has an affinity with fire." Zoisite's shoulders slumped as he confessed the rest of the story.

"Unfortunately, it seems that she is…too busy to answer me right now."

His word play didn't fool Rei for even a minute.

_Abandoned; the little twit has the nerve to feel 'abandoned' after all he's done._

"Tell me, Zoisite," she said as she walked past him, clasped her hands and knelt before the fire, never once looking directly at him, "How can anyone 'abandon' you"—she didn't need to look at Zoisite to know he flinched—"when you were the one who threw them away in the first place?"

Zoisite stuttered. "I…"

_I…throw away? I would never…_

_But you did._

Ignoring this foreign accusation, Zoisite took a pleading tone with Rei.

"Wh-what do you mean, Ms. Hino?"

Rei never turned around, didn't even speak to him again, but her very posture was a command.

_Leave._

Leave he did, never noticing a sighing Himiko as he rushed out.

_I…threw her away?_

Himiko shook her head at Zoisite's retreating figure as she closed the temple doors.

* * *

_CLANK!_

Kunzite thrust the short sword into the ground.

"Humph," he grunted before stepping back.

_What will that accomplish? It won't change anything save make things more difficult, and they are difficult enough as it is. _

"Well, I'm glad you decided not to do that," said a masculine voice from the shadows, "That blade isn't exactly sharp; would have been a very nasty way to go. Not to mention the investigations and the closing of the room off and…urgh."

Kunzite started.

_Someone was in here with me? And I never noticed?_

Turning around, he saw a man dressed in white armor; a yellow half-sun, half-moon adorned his chest plate, and orange jewels had been embedded on the spiky shoulder pads. Hiding his legs as a yellow-orange skirt and on his bare right arm was a gold, unadorned armlet, and a cape the same color as his skirt was pushed back past the shoulder guards.

His hair was long and dark, his eyes sky blue, and his smile warm, inviting and friendly.

"I'm surprised," Kunzite said, "I didn't think anyone could get this close to me without my being aware of them; I must have slipped more then I thought."

The stranger shook his head.

"Your ki's range is very short; I know hopeless novices who have wider rangers then you do."

"Considering you're talking to a man who almost committed suicide, that's not exactly emotionally comforting."

"Sorry, when you're a commander, you learn to be brutally honest, to the annoyance of even those around you that you can call friends."

"I sympathize."

"Besides," the man went on, "Your 'range' is short, but…" the man shook his head, "The way the way your 'ki' fluctuates, the moment I nudged a toe in, you'd be all over me like the Queen and Princess on ice-cream…don't tell anyone I said that."

The corner of Kunzite's mouth quirked before it settled back down.

"Caris Trent," the man announced himself as he offered a hand, "First Captain and Leader of the Elite."

Taking the hand and shaking it, Kunzite's eyes widened; the man's hands were covered in sword calluses, and his grip was strong. Kunzite's respect for the other man went up another notch.

"Kunzite, leader of the…no, for now, it's just Kunzite."

"Hmm? Well, can you tell me why you were about to spill your guts in Madame Michiru's museum, 'just Kunzite'?"

Kunzite raised an eyebrow. Coming from anyone else, that would have been eye-roll annoying. Coming from this man it was…strangely inclusive, making Kunzite feel like he was the only one this person felt comfortable enough to talk to this way.

_Just like her…_

Getting his mind of Minerva—_Minako_, he internally chastised, _her name in this life-time is Minako_—he addressed this rather strangely familiar man.

"You are…" Kunzite searched for the most delicate way he could put it before finally deciding to return brutal honesty with brutal honesty, "Enduringly annoying."

Caris started before laughing.

"I...hehehe….I've known that everysnortone thought that about me for a long time, but gaspthis is the first time anyone's came out and SAID it!!"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Caris looked back up at Kunzite, this time with grim seriousness.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Kunzite shrugged, "Just remembering those I failed and getting caught up in the moment. Suicide is an escape, a shirking from one's duty; frankly, I'm disgusted that I let myself get this far."

Caris slowly nodded before smiling again.

"If you don't mind my asking," Kunzite questioned, "You said something about an 'Elite'?"

Caris nodded enthusiastically before crossing his arms.

"Oh yes. You see, we are the cream of the crop in their Majesties soldiers; people who can actually compete with the Senshi, though we are a far cry from 'equal'. With yoma attacks and insurgents caused by people with 'power', you'd be amazed at how much military action goes into keeping this place a paradise."

"I think I have a fair idea," Kunzite drawled as he began to assess the man. _First Captain; does that make him the best, or just simply the first one promoted? Either way, that he's among this 'Elite' makes him a dangerous man, whatever his silly demeanor._

Caris noticed Kunzite's wondering eyes. "Something the matter?"

"Merely wondering," Kunzite returned without missing a beat.

"Oh? About what?"

"You're the 'Elite', the best, yes?"

"Yees."

"And you fight in a…dress?"

"Yees."

"Isn't that…constricting?"

"And kind of embarrassing."

"So why?"

"Rumor has it that once upon a time one of the Senshi heard one lude comment too many in regards to their uniform of choice."

"….Uranus, or Mars?"

"Both, actually."

Both men smirked before Caris stepped back. "Well, 'just Kunzite', it seems you are no longer in danger of being responsible for Michiru giving me my first spanking in over four hundred years—she deeply cares about this museum, you understand, mostly because Haruku loves it—so I shall take my leave of you."

It was only after Caris turned around and began to walk away that they both realized something about the other.

_He called each of the Senshi by name…_

_Who is he? He obviously knows the Senshi somewhat intimately._

"You know," Caris said, "If you would like, you could come to the training grounds; unlike most of my subordinates, you seem like you can give me a run for my money as a sparing partner, as opposed to the Senshi just mopping the floor with me and laughing about it."

"…Uranus or Jupiter?"

"Minako too."

"Ah, she would at that."

Caris looked over his shoulder.

"Who are you exactly, Kunzite?"

Kunzite blinked. "You haven't heard the stories?"

"Been too busy for years to bother with stories; why, are you famous or something?"

Kunzite looked away. "Or something."

"Well, in that case I'm further resolved not to read those stories. I want to find out from you what kind of man you are, not what some thread-spinner thinks you are. Why, I have one reporter who thinks I'm too empty headed to even be _accepted _in the Elite, let alone its head, and then I have a historian who thinks I'm a blood-thirsty war-monger."

Caris looked ahead and walked out. "I hope to see you again, 'just Kunzite'."

As he was left alone again, Kunzite bent over and removed the sword from the ground before returning it to its sheath.

_Who am I? Unfortunately, I know all too well. I also know what I have to do in spite of it._

* * *

When Jadeite finally opened his eyes, the lights blinded him. Sitting up far too quickly, he immediately sat back down, his head—and the room—spinning.

"Wh…what happened?"

"Yo; you're awake."

Turning his head, he saw Nephrite sitting next to him, his chest bare and tapped, and his right arm wrapped in bandages.

"…You got your ass kicked, didn't you?"

"Huh; look whose talking, invalid."

Jadeite mouthed a couple words that were unrepeatable before trying to clear his head.

_Something important happened after I lost consciousness; but what?_

"Neph?"

"Hmm?"

"We suck."

"Yep; we do."

* * *

When Ohanzee returned, he found the other three men sitting at the table; Zetsubou had yet to take his eyes off the portrait, and that mass of hatred was still bobbing ominously overhead.

When Ohanzee sat down, Zetsubou turned.

"You are all resolved? After this, there is no changing of minds, no turning back."

Four heads nodded in answer.

"Good. Then let's discuss the first stages of our plans to make the Shitennou's last few months of life a living hell."

He talked.

They listened.

She laughed.

**Heh. I TOLD you not to expect such quick updates, though this took me far longer then I anticipated. I was stuck on how the Nephrite/Jupiter confrontation was supposed to go. Seriously, that's what took the longest. Then just the other day it hit me, 'BAM'. The rest I felt just flowed naturally. Always, opinions both good and bad are wanted and expected. So, let the comments flow!!! Any and all flames should be emailed to**


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